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CIjc iullci: Morlljics' f ibvaig. 




VOL. I. 






^hj Jfulbr Mortbies' fibranj. 






I. Hitherto unpriiitocl and inelited Poems from Archbishop Sancroffs 

MSS. &c. &c. 

II. Ti-anslation of the whole of the Poemata et Epigrammata. 

III. Memorial-Introduction, Essay on Life and Poetry, and Notes. 

IV. In Quarto, reproduction in facsimile of the Author's own Illustra- 

tions of 1652, with others specially prepared. 




VOL. I. 



1 no copies printed. 

Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2012 with funding from 

Princeton Theological Seminary Library 














Those marked [*] are priiik'il for the first tiinc from Mss. ; those markeil 
[t] have additions for the first time given in their places. 


Dedication v 

Preface xi 

Memorial-Introduction xxvii 

Note xl 

The Preface to the Reader xlv 

Sacred Poetry : I, Steps to the Temple, and Carmen Deo 
Nostra, 1-181. 

tSainte Mary Magdalene, or the Weeper 3 

Sancta Maria Dolorvm, or the Mother of Sorrows: a pathe- 
ticall Descant upon the deuout Plamsong of Stahat Mater 

Dolorosa .......... 19 

fThe Teare 25 

fThe Office of the Holy Crosse 29 

Vexilla Regis : the Hymn of the Holy Crosse . . .44 

The Lord silences His Questioners. ..... 47 

Our Blessed Lord in His Cfrcuracision to His Father . . 48 

On the Wounds of our crucitied Lord 50 

Vpon the bleeding Crucilix : a song 51 

tTo the Name above every name, the Name of lesvs : a hymn 55 

Psalrae xxiii. 65 

Psalnie cxxxvii. ......... 68 

tin the Holy Nativity of ovr Lord God: a hj-mn svng as by 

the Shepheards 70 

New Year's Day 76 

fin the gloriovs Kpiphanic of ovr Lord God: a hymn svng as 

by the three Kings -79 

To the IJveen's Maiesty ........ 91 



Vpon Easter Day 94 

Sospetto d' Herode 95 

The H^inn of Sainte Thomas, in Adoration of the Blessed Sa- 
crament 121 

Lavda Sion Salvatorem : the Hymn for the Bl. Sacrament . 124 
fPrayer : an Ode which was prefixed to a little Prayer-book 

given to a young Gentle- woman 128 

To the same Party: Covncel concerning her Choise . . 134 
Description of a Religiovs Hovse and Condition of Life (out 

of Barclay) 137 

On Mr. George Herbert's Booke intituled the Temple of Sacred 

Poems : sent to a Gentle-woman 139 

tA Hj-mn to the Name and Honor of the admirable Sainte 

Teresa 141 

fAn Apologie for the foregoing Hymn, as hauing been writt 

when the Author was yet among the Protestants . . 150 
jThe Flaming Heart : vpon the Book and Picture of the sera- 
phical Saint Teresa, as she is vsvally expressed with a 

Seraphim biside her 152 

A Song of Divine Love 157 

tin the gloriovs Ass%Tnption of ovr Blessed Lady . . .158 

•fUpon five piovs and learned Discourses by Robert Sbelford . 162 
Dies irie, dies Ula : the Hymn of the Chvrch, in meditation 

of the Day of Ivdgment 166 

Charitas Ximia, or the dear Bargain 170 

S. Maria Maior : the Himn, O gloriosa Domina . . 173 

Hope [by Cowley] 175 

M. Crashaw's Answer for Hope ...... 178 

Sacred Poetry: IL Airelks, 183-194. 

*Mary seeking Jesus when lost . . . ■. 185 

*The Wounds of the Lord Jesus 187 

*0n y'= Gunpowder- Treason 188 

* Ditto 190 

t Ditto 192 

Secular Poetry : I. The DellgliU of the Muses. 195-276. 

JIusick's Duell . 197 

111 the Pniise of the Spring (out of Virgil) .... 207 

Wiih a Picture sent to a Friend 20S 



fin praise of Lcssius's Kiile of Health ..... 209 

The IJei^iiining of Hclioiloriis ...... 212 

Cupid's Crycr (out of the Greel<c) 214 

Vpou 15ishop .Viulrews' Picture hcfore his Sermons . . 217 

Vpon the Death of a Gentleman 218 

Vpou the Death of Mr. Ilerrys 220 

Vpon the Dcjith of the desired Mr. Herrys . . . 222 

Another 225 

His Epitaph 228 

tAn Epitaph vpon a yo\Tig Married Covple, dead and bvrycd 

together 230 

Death's Lectvre and the Fviieral of a j'ovng Gentleman . 232 

An Epitaph vpon Doctor Broolce ...... 234 

On a foule Morning, being then to take a Journey. . . 235 

To the Morning : Satisfaction for Sleepe .... 237 

Love's Horoscope 240 

A Song (out of the Italian) 243 

Out of the Italian 245 

Out of the Italian 246 

Vpon the Frontispeece of Mr. Isaackson's Chronologie . . 246 

On the same by Bishop Rainbow 248 

An Epitaph \-pon Mr. Ashton, a conformable Citizen . . 250 

Out of Catullus 251 

Wishes 252 

fTo the Queen : an Apologie for the length of the following 

PanegjTick 259 

To the Queen, ■\'pon her numerous Progenie : a Panegj'rick . 260 

Vpon two greene Apricockes sent to Cowley by Sir Crashaw . 269 
Alexias : The Complaint of the forsaken Wife of Sainte Alexis : 

three Elegies 271 

Secular Poetry : II. Airelles, 277-303. 

*Upon the King's Coronation 279 

* Ditto 280 

""Vpon the Birth of the Prineesse Elizabeth .... 282 

*Vpon a Gnatt burnt in a Candle 284 

*rrom Petronius 286 

*From Horace. ......... 287 

*Ex Euphormione ......... 289 

*An Elegy vpon the Death of Mr. Stanninow, Fellow of Queen's 

Colledge . 290 

VOT-. I. h 



*Upon the Death of a Friend 292 

*An Ele^ie 011 the Death of Dr. Porter 293 

fVerse-Letter to the Countess of Denbigh .... 295 

Ditto from Carmen Deo Nostro 3°' 

Illustrations, in the ilJustrated Quarto only : Vol. I. 

1. The Weeper: engraved by W. J. Linton, Esq., after the 

Author's own Design 4 

2. Sancta Maria Dolor\Tn ; or the Mother of Sorrows . . 19 

3. The Office of the Holy Crosse 29 

4. The Recommendation 43 

5. To the Name above every name, the Name of lesus . . 55 

6. The Hymn of Sainte Thomas 55 

7. The ' irresolute' Locked Heart 55 

8. In the Holy Nativity of ovr Lord God . . . .71 

9. In the gloriovs Epiphanie of o-st Lord Gwl . . . .79 

10. Head of Satan: drawn and engraved by W. J. Linton, Esq. 95 

11. Sainte Teresa 141 

12. Dies iric, dies ilia 166 

13. Maria Maior, O gloriosa Domina 173 

14. A second Illustration from the Bodleian copy . . .173 

15. The Dead Nightingale : dra^vn by Mrs. Blackburn, engraved 

by W. J. Linton, Esq i97 

Nos. 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 are reproduced in fac- 
simile from the author's own designs of 1G52, by Pouucey of Dor- 
chester, expressly for our edition of Crashaw. Besides the above 
there are a number of head- and tail-pieces by W. J. Lmton, Esq. 


I HAVE at last the pleasure of seeing half-fulfilled along- 
cherished wish and intention, by the issue of the present 
Volume, being Vol. I. of the first really worthy edition 
of the complete Poetry of Kichard Crashaw, while 
Vol. II. is so well advanced that it may be counted on 
for Midsummer {Deo favente). 

This Volume contains the whole of the previously- 
published English Poems, with the exception of the Epi- 
grams scattered among the others, which more fittingly 
find their place in Vol. II., along with the Latin and 
Greek originals, and our translation of all hitherto un- 
translated. Here also will be found important, and pecu- 
liarly interesting as characteristic, additions of unprinted 
and inedited poems by Crashaw from Archbishop San- 
croft's Mss., among the Tanner mss. in the Bodleian. 
These I have named ' Airelles,' after the little Alpine 
flowers that are dug out beneath the mountain masses of 
snow and ice, with abiding touches of beauty and per- 
fume, as though they had been sheltered within walls and 
glass. The formerly printed Poems have been collated and 
recollated anxiously with the original and other early and 
authoritative editions, the results of which are shown in 
Notes and Illustrations at the close of each poem. ]\Iany 

3jjj PREFACE. 

of the various readings are of rare interest, and collation 
has revealed successive additions and revisions altogether 
unrecorded by modern editors. In their places I have 
pointed out the flagrant carelessness of the last Editor, 
W. B. Tdrnbull, Esq., in Smith's ' Library of Old Au- 
thors.' g 
As was meet, I have adhered to the first titles ot 
' Steps to the Temple' and ' The Delights of the Muses,' 
the former embracing the Sacked, and the latter the 
Secular Poems. The original Editor (whoever he was), 
not the Author, gave these titles. In the Preface to 
' the learned Reader,' he says, ^we stile his sacred Poems, 
Steps to the Temple.' At one time I was disposed to 
assign the editorship of the volumes of 1646 and 1G48 
to s'vNCROFT ; but inasmuch as both contained Bp. Rain- 
bow's verses prefixed to Isaacson's ' Chronologic,' while 
the piece is not in the Sancroft ms., it seems he could 
not have been the editor. His pathetic closmg words 
reveal much love : ' I will conclude all that I have im- 
partially writ of this learned young Gent, {now dead to 
us) as bee himselfe doth, with the last hue of his poem 
upon Bishop Andrewes' picture before his Sermons, Verle 
pacjinas—hook on his following leaves, and see him 


I would now give an account of previous editions 
of our Worthy, and our use of them. The earliest of 
his publications-excluding minor pieces in University 
Collections as recorded in our Essay— was a volume of 
Latin Epigrams published at Cambridge in 1634 in a 
small 8vo. The name of Crasuaw nowhere appears, 
but his initials R. C. are appended to the Dedication 
to his friend Laney. The title-page was as follows : 


'Epigraiumatum Sacrornm Liber. Cantabrigian ex Aca- 
tlemi;v celcberrinia^ typographo, 1634.' Besides the Epi- 
grams, this now rare volume contained certain of his 
' Poemata' before the Epigrams. A second edition was 
published in 1670 with a few additional Epigrams, and 
those in Greek. A third edition appeared in 1674. 
Fuller details, with collation of each, are given in Vol. II. 
in their places. 

Nothing more of any considerableness was published 
until 1G46, two years after the Poet's ejection. Then 
appeared a small volume of Poems, chiefly English, ar- 
ranged in two distinct classes. Sacred and Secular, the 
latter with a separate title-page. In the Note which fol- 
lows this Preface, the title-pages of the volume will be 
found, along with those of the subsequent editions of 
1G48 and 1670. With reference to the volume of 1646, 
a mistake in the printing was thus pointed out: 'Reader, 
there was a sudden mistake ('tis too late to recover 
it) : thou wilt quickly find it out, and I hope as soone 
passe it over ; some of the humane Poems are misplaced 
amongst the Divine.' These ' humane' poems, that be- 
longed not to the ' Steps' but the ' Delights of the Muses,' 
were fifteen in all. They were assigned their own places 
in the new edition of 1648. With two exceptions, we 
have adhered to the classification of the 1648 edition: 
the exceptions are, that we have placed ' Vexilla Regis' 
immediately after the ' Office of the Holy Crosse,' as be- 
longing properly to that composition ; and the 'Apologie' 
for the Hymn to Teresa after the first, not after the 
second Hymn, seeing the ' Apologie' is only for the first. 
The new edition bore on its title-page the announcement : 
' The second Edition, wherein are added divers pieces not 


before extant.' Our contents of the present Volume (im- 
mediately following our Dedication) shows these addi- 
tions, which were important and precious ; viz. twenty- 
nine new English Poems and eighteen new Latin Poems. 
The next edition was published in Paris in 1G52. 
In our Note (as supra) the title-page is given. This 
volume is an elegant one, and is adorned with twelve 
dainty engravings after the Author's own designs, though 
we possess a copy without the engravings, having blanks 
left. This exceedingly rare book contains most of the 
Sacred Poems and some of the more serious of the Secu- 
lar Poems ; but as the contents (as supra) show, there 
were large omissions, notably the Sospetto and Musick's 
Duel. It was edited by Thomas Car, who prefixes two 
poems of his own, as follows : 

I. Crashawe, the Anagramme ' He was Car.' 

Was Cab then Crashawe ; or was Crashawe Car, 1 

Since both within one name combined are ? 

Yes, Car's Crashawe, he Car; 'tis lone alone 

Which melts two harts, of both composing one. 

So Crashaw's still the same : so mujch desired 5 

By strongest witts ; so honor'd, so admired; 

Car was but he that enter'd as a friend 

With whom he shar'd his thoughtes, and did commend 

(WhUe yet he liu'd) this worke ; they lou'd each other: 

Sweete Crashawe was his friend ; he Crashawe's brother. 10 

So Car hath title then ; 'twas his intent 

That what his riches pen'd, poore Car should piint ; 

Nor feares he checke, praysing that happie one 

Who was belou'd by all ; disprais'd by none : 

To witt, being pleas'd with all things, he pleas'd all, 15 

Nor would he giue, nor take offence ; befall 

What might, he would possesse himselfe, and Hue 

As deade (deuoyde of interest) t' aU might giue 

Desease t' his well-composed mjTid ; fore-stal'd 

With heauenly riches ; which had wholy call'd 20 


His thoughts from cai'th, to line ahouc in th' nirc 

A very bird of paradice. No caro 

Had he of earthly trashc. What might sufiico 

To iitt his soule to heauenly exercise 

Sufficed him : and may we guesBO his hart 25 

By what his lipps brings forth, his ouely part 

Is God and godly thoughtes. Leaues doubt to none 

But that to whom one God is all ; all's one. 

■\Miat he might eate or wearo he tooke no thought ; 

His needfull foode he rather found then sought. 30 

He seekes no downes, no sheetcs, his bed's still made ; 

If he can find a chaire or stoole, he's layd. 

When Day peepes in, he quitts his restlesse rest, 

And still, poore soule, before he's rp, he's di'c'st. 

Thus dying did he line, yet lined to dye 35 

In th' Virgin's lappe, to whom he did applye 

His vii-gine thoughtes and words, and thence was styld 

By foes, the chaplaine of the vii-gine myld. 

While yet he lined without. His modestie 

Imparted this to some, and they to me. . 40 

Line happie then, deare soule ! inioy the rest 

Eternally by paynes thou pui-chacedst. 

While Car must liue in care, who was thy friend, 

Nor cares he how he liue, so in the end 

He may inioy his dearest Lord and thee ; 45 

And sitt and singe more skilfull songs eternally.' 

II. An Epigramme 

Vpon the Pictures in the following Poemes, which the Authour first 
made with his owne hand, admirably well, as may be scene in 
his Manuscript dedicated to the Right Honourable Lady the L. 

'Twixt pen and pensill rose a holy strife 1 

AMiich might draw Vertue better to the life : 
Best witts gaue votes to that, but painters swore 
They nener saw peeces so sweete before 

1 TcRSBULL in line 19 misprints ' Diseased his . . . .' making 
nonsense. Disease is = dis-easc, discompcse, as used by Piiinkas 
Fletcher: cf. vol. iii. p. 1!14 ct alibi. 


As thes fruits of pure Nature ; where no Art 5 

Did lead the vntaught pensiD, nor had part 

In th' worke 

The hand gi'owne bold, with witt will needes contest : 
Doth it preuayle ? ah no ! say each is best. 
This to the care speakes wonders ; that will tiye 10 

To Bpeake the same, yet lowder, to the eye. 
Both in their aymes are holy, both conspu-e 
To wound, to bume the hart with heauenly fire. 
This then's the doome, to doe both parties right : 
This to the care speakes best ; that, to the sight. 15 

Thomas Cae.' 

It is clear from these lines in the former poem — 

' Car was but he that enter'd as a friend 
With whom he shar'd his thoughtes, and did commend 
(While yet he liu'd) this worse 

So Car hath title then ; 'twas his intent 

That what his riches pen' d, poore Car should })rint' — 

that the volmne of 1652 carries the authority of Cra- 
SHAW with it as his own Selection from what he had 
written. So that I have had no hesitation in accepting 
its text of the Poems pre^nously published (in 1646 and 
1648): understanding that the Selection was regulated 
by his desire only to offer the Countess of Denbigh 
those he himself most valued. There are inevitable mis- 
prints and a chaos of punctuation; but the text as a whole 
is a great advance on those preceding, as our Notes and 
Illustrations to the several poems prove. There are some 
very valuable additions throughout, entirely overlooked 
by modern Editors. Our text of all not in 1652 volume 
is based on that of 1648 collated with 1646. 

• TfRXisri.i, again misprints in line 3 'But' for 'Best,' once more 
making nonsense. 


The ongravings celt'l)rated in the Epigram of Cah — 
of whom more, and of the origin and purpose of the 
Vokime, in our Essay — are as follows : 

1. 'To the noblest and best of ladyes:' a heart 
with an emblematical lock. Beneath is printed ' Non Vi' 
( = not by force), and the following lines : 

'Tis not the work of force but skill 

To find the way into man's will. 

'Tis loue alone can hearts vnlock: 

Who knowes the Word, he needs not knock. 

2. ' To the name above every name.' ' Xumisma 
Urbani ('».' A dove under the tiara, surrounded with a 
glory. The legend is, ' In unitate Deus est' 

3. ' The Holy JS^ativity.' The Holy Family at ]}eth- 
lehem. Beneath are these lines in French and Latin : 

Ton Createur te faict voir sa naissance 
Deignant souflEi-ii- pour toj dcs son enfance. 

Qaem vidistis, Pastores, &c. 
Natum vidimus, &c. 

4. ' The Glorious Epiphanie.' The adoration of the 

5. 'The Office of the Holy Crosse.' Christ on the 
Cross. Beneath (from the Vulgate), 

Tradidit semetipsum pro nobis oblationem et hostiam 
Deo in odorem sua\dtatis. — Ad Ephe. 5. 

6. ' The Recommendation.' The ascended Saviour 
looking down toward the Earth. Above, this line, 

Expostulatio Jesu Christi cum mundo iugi-ato. 

Beneath, a Latin poem of thirteen lines, which appears 
in its place in our Vol. II. 

7. 'Sancta Maria Doloruai.' The Virgin Mary under 

VOL. 1. '* 


the Cross with the instruments of the Passion, holding 
the dead Saviour in her arms. 

8. ' Hymn of St. Thomas.' A Remonstrance. ' Ecce 
panis /Vngelorum.' 

9. ' Dies Ira?.' The Last Judgment. ' Dies Ira^, 
dies ilia.' 

10. ' O Gloriosa Domina.' The Virgin Mary and 
Child. Angels hold a crown over her head, surmounted 
by the Holy Dove. Beneath : 

S. Maria Major. 

Dilectus mens mihi, et ego illi," 

Qiii pascitm- inter lilia. Cant. 

11. ' The Weeper.' A female head, showing beneath, 
a bleeding and burning heart, surrounded by a glory. 
This couplet is below : 

Lo, where a wounded heart, with bleeding eyes conspire : 
Is she a flaming fountaine, or a weeping fire ? 

12. ' Hymn to St. Teresa.' Portrait : scroll above, 
inscribed ' Misericors Domini in tetemum cantabo.' Be- 
neath, ' La Vray Portraict de Ste. Terese, Fondatrice 
des Religieuses et Eeligieux reformez de I'ordre de N. 
Dame de mont Carmel : Decedee le 4' Ucto. 1582. Ca- 
nonisee le 12' Mars 1622.' 

Besides these Twelve, I discovered another in illus- 
tration of ' Gloriosa Domina,' substituted for No. 10 in 
the very fine copy of the volume in the Douce Collection 
in the Bodleian. 1 have the satisfaction of furnishing 
admirable reproductions in fac-simile of Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 
5, G, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 12, and by the kindness of the 
Bodleian Trustees, the unique illustration for No. 10. 
No. 11 by my friend W. .1. Lintos, Esq. The whole 


of these belong exclusively to our illustrateil quarto edi- 
tion, and the impressions taken have been strictly limited 
thereto, and a very few for uiy own gift-nse. 

We have now done with genuine editions ; but have 
yet to notice a wretched medley which bears the name of 
the ' 2d edition.' Its title-page is given in our Note (as 
before). This volume is fairly printed ; but whatever 
was meant by ' 2d edition,' whether it was so styled from 
ignorance of the edition of 1048 or copying of its title, 
or because it was meant for a 2d edition of 1652, it is 
a deplorable compilation made out of 1G4G and 1G52. 
It first reprints 1G4G and then 1G52, omitting in the 
second part such poems of 1G52 as were in 1G4G, but 
without taking the trouble of correcting any, so as to 
bring them into agreement with the better text. Not to 
mention well-nigh innumerable misprints and omissions, 
so blind is it, that it has twice printed two poems which 
in 1652 had their titles altered, not observing that it had 
already printed them under the old titles. These were 
the poems. On the Death of a Yoitii/j Gentleman, and in 
Praise of Lessius. It contains only the eight Latin 
Poems of 1G4G, and no others. Of this edition Turn- 
bull says, ' In its text [it is] the most inaccurate of all' 
— and — What then? He reprints it ! and leaves un- 
detected its inaccuracies and omissions, and superadds as 
many more of his own — as our Notes and Illustrations 
demonstrate, albeit we have left many blunders unre- 
corded, contenting ourselves with seeing that our own is 
correct. And yet this Editor got in a i-age with a cor- 
respondent (Professor M'Carthy) of 2\otes and Queries, 
who at the time corrected incidentally a misprinted letter 
— oblivious of (literally) hundreds infinitely worse. 


Peregrine Phillips in 1785 published a very well- 
printed volume of 'Selections' from Crashaw; but, like 
TuuNBULL, he blundered over the (so-called) ' 2d edition' 
of 1G70, and seems never to have seen those of 1648 
and 1652. Of other more recent editions I shall speak 
in our Essay, and, as already stated in our Memorial- 
Introduction, notice the University Collections and others, 
to which our Poet contributed. In its place, at close of 
the present Volume, see account of a hitherto unused 
edition of a Verse-Letter to Countess of Denbigh. 

Of the Poems now for the first time printed, the pre- 
sent Volume contains no fewer than fifteen or sixteen 
with important additions : Vol. II. will contain very 
many more, as well as our Translation of the hitherto 
untranslated Poems and Epigrams. The source of all 
these erewhile unprinted Poems is Vol. 465 among the 
Tanner mss., which is known to be in the handwrit- 
ing (mainly) of Archbishop Sancroft. The A^olume 
is a collection of contemporary Poetry, but as it now 
rests in the Bodleian is imperfect, as the Index shows. 
The following details will probably interest our readers. 
In the Index is first of all the following, ' Mr. Cra- 
shaw's Epigrams, sacra Latina;' but it is erased. Then 
underneath is written ' Mr. Crashaw's poems transcrib'd 
fr5 his own copie, before they were printed ; amongst 
^^'=^ are some not printed.' ' Latin, On y" Gospels v p 7. 
On other Subiects p 39, 95, 229. English Sacred 
Poems p 111. On other Subiects— 39, 162, 164 v 
107 V 196. 202 V 206. 223. v Suspetto di Herodi, 
translated fro Car. Marino p 287 v.' Guided by 
this Index — for, though to some ' R. Cu.' is prefixed, 
others printed in 1()4(> and 1648 are left without name 


or initials — page 7 to 22 contains Latin Poems and Epi- 
grams still impnblislicil. On page 22 is a large letter C 
=Crashaw. The pagination then leaps to p. 39 and goes 
on to page 04, and consists of Latin Poems and one 
in Greek ' On other Snbjects,' also wholly unpnblished. 
Page 06 is blank, and a blank leaf follows. Then there 
is a Latin poem by Wallis, and pp. 95-0 contain other 
Latin poems by Crashaw, in part published. Pages 97- 
102 are blank, and the pagination again leaps to p. Ill, 
where begin the English Sacred Poems, continuing to 
page 137, with ' Crashaw' written at end. These pages 
(111-137) contain mainly Poems and Epigrams before 
published. On page 130 is a short poem ' On Good 
Friday' by T. Randolph. On page 135 are two poems 
by Dr. Alabaster: then, on page 130, Crashaw's poem 
' On the Assumption,' and on page 137, a short poem by 
Wotton. Pages 138- 142 are blank, and once more the 
pagination passes to p. 159, where there is a poem by 
Giles Fletcher (pp. 159-160) — printed by us in Ap- 
pendix to Poems of Dr. Giles Fletcher in our Fuller 
Worthies' Miscellanies. Pages 160-1 have poems 
by Corbett (erroneously inserted as Herrick's by Haz- 
litt in his edition of Herrick), and a Song by Wotton. 
On page 102 'The Faire Ethiopian,' by Crashaw: p. 
163, 'Upon Mr. CI.' [Cleveland?], who made a Song 
against the D.D.s — The complaint of a woman with 
child [both anonymous]. Then at page 104 ' Upon a 
gnatt burnt in a candle,' by Crashaw (being entered in 
Index as supra), and never published. On pages 105-6, 
Love's Horoscope (published) : p. 166, Ad Ainicam. 
T. E. (not by Cu vsiiaw, being entered in Index under 
Randolph): pp. 107-71, Fidicinis et Philomela Bellum 


Musicuni, and Upon Herbert's Temple : pp. 172-3, Upon 
Isaacson's Frontispiece (the second piece): pp. 173-4, An 
invitation to faire weather (all published before). Then 
translations from the Latin Poets with ' R. Cr.' above 
each, pp. 174-178 — all mipiiblished : pp. 178-9, from 
Virgil (piiblished). Next on pp. 180-87 are the follow- 
ing : 'On y' Gimpowder-Treason' (three separate pieces), 
and ' Upon the King's Coronation' (two pieces). These 
have never been printed until now in our present Vol., and 
they are unquestionably Crashaw's, inasmuch as (a) All 
entered thus 104 v. 167 are by him, and so these being 
entered under his name in Index as 1G7 v. 19G must 
belong to him ; (J) ' Upon the King's Coronation' are 
renderings in part of his own Latin; (r) As shown in 
our Essay (where also their biographic value is shown) 
unusual words used by Crashaw occur in them. Pp. 187- 
90, ' Panegyrick upon the birth of the Duke of York' 
(published): pp. 190-2, 'Upon the birth of the Princesse 
Elizabeth' (never before printed). Pages 192-190, poems 
by Corbett, Wotton, and others. Pages 19G-7, Trans- 
lation from the Latin Ex Euphormione (not before pub- 
lished), and on Lessius (published). Then pp. 197-201, 
poems by various, in part anonymous: pp. 202-3, An 
Elegy on Staninougli — not having his name or initials, 
but entered in Index under his name — (never before pub- 
lished) : pp. 203-5, In obitum desider. M" Chambers 
(published, but the heading new), and Upon the death 
of a friend (not before published) : p. 205, ' On a cobler' 
(anonymous): p. 206, In obitum D' Brooke: Epitaphium 
Conjug. (published) : page 207, poem by Culveuweli. : 
p. 208, blank; and then the pagination passes to p. 223. 
Pages 223-229, poems on Hcrrys [or Harris") (all pub- 


Hslied, but with variations) : pp. "i^'J-GO, Elcgie on Dr. 
Porter (never before published, and entered in Index 
under Crashaw) : from p. 231 to 238, various poems, 
but none by Crashaw; then the pagination leaps to p. 
238, and goes on to_ p. 255, with various pieces, but 
again none by Crash.\w. On pp. 297-8 are eight of 
the published English Epigrams. All the other anony- 
mous and avowed poems being entered in the Index 
separately from Crashaw's, and under either their titles 
or authors, makes us safe to exclude them from our 
Volumes. On the other hand, the Index-entries and 
' R. C together, assure us that rich and virgin as is the 
treasure-trove of unprinted and unpublished Poems — 
English and Latin, especially the Latin — it is without a 
shadow of doubt Richard Crashaw's, and of supreme 
worth. I have also had the good fortune to discover a 
Harleian ms. from Lord Somers' Library (6917-18), 
which furnishes some valuable readings of some of the 
Poems, as recorded and used by us. 

Throughout we have endeavoured with all fidelity 
to reproduce our Worthy in integrity of text and ortho- 
graphy — diminishing only (slightly) italics and capitals, 
and as usual giving capitals to all divine Names (nouns 
and pronouns) and personifications. In Notes and Il- 
lustrations all various readings are recorded, and such 
elucidations and filling-in of names and allusions as are 
likely to be helpful. 

It is now my pleasant duty to return right hearty, 
because heartfelt, thanks to many friends and correspon- 
dents who have aided me in a somewhat arduous and 
difficult work and ' labour of love.' To the venerable 


and illustrious man whose name by exprcbs permission 
adorns my Dedication, I owe a debt of gratitude for a 
beautiful, a pathetic, a (to me) sacred Letter, that greatly 
animated me to go forward. By my admirable friends 
Revs. J. H. Clark, M.A., of West Dereham, Xorfolk, 
and Thomas Ashe, M.A., Ipswich, my edition (as Vol. 
II. will evidence) is advantaged in various Translations 
for the first time of the Latin poems, valuable in them- 
selves, and the more valued for the generous enthusiasm 
and modesty with which they were offered, not to say 
how considerably they have lightened my own work in the 
same field. To Dr. Brinsley Nicholson, who retains 
in the Army his fine literary culture and acumen ; to 
W. Alois Wright, Esq., M.A., Trinity College, Cam- 
bridge; the very Reverend Dr. F. C. Husexbeth, Cossey, 
Norwich; the Earl and Countess of Dexbigh; Monsignor 
Stoxor, Rome; to Correspondents at Loretto, Douai, 
Paris, &c.; and to Colonel Chester and Mr. W. T. 
Brooke, London, — I wish to tender my warmest thanks 
for various services most pleasantly rendered ; all to the 
enrichment of our edition. 

The Illustrations (in the 4to) speak for themselves. 
I cannot sufficiently express my ackuowledgments for 
the spontaneous and ever-increasing willinghood of my 
artist-poet friend W. J. Lixtox, Esq., who from his 
temporary Transatlantic home has sent me the exquisite 
head- and tail-pieces in both volumes, besides cunningly 
interpreting the two original Illustrations drawn for me 
by Mrs. HfGii Blackburx of Glasgow, and the Poet's 
' Weeper.' To Mrs. Bla( kburx her work is its own 
abundant reward ; but none the less do I appreciate her 
great kindness to me. 


Anything else needing to be said will be found in 
the Memorial-Introduction and Essay on the Life and 
Poetry, and Notes and Illustrations. I cannot better 
close our Preface than with the fine tribute of R. Aris 
WiLLMOTT, in his ' Dream of the Poets,' wherein he 
catches up the echo of Cowley across two centuries : 

Poet and Saint ! thy sky was dark 
And sad thy lonely vigil here ; 
But thy meek spirit, like the lark 
Still showered music on the ear, 
From its own heaven ever clear : 
No pining mourner thou ! thy strain 
Could breathe a slumber upon Pain, 
Singing thy tears asleep : not long 

To stray by Siloa's brook was thine : 
Yet Time hath never dealt thee wrong, 

Nor brush'd the sweet bloom from thy line : 
Thou hast a home in eveiy song. 
In every Christian heart, a shrine. 

Alexander B. Grosart. 

1.5 St. Alban's Place, BlackUimi, I^aiioashire, 
4th February 1872. 

VOL. I. 


In a Study of the Life and Poetry of our present Worthy, 
which will be found in our Volume II. — thus postponed 
in order that the completed Works may be before the stu- 
dent-reader along with it — I venture to hope new hght 
will be shed on both, and his character as a Man and 
Poet — one of the richest of the minor Poets of Eng- 
land — vindicated and interpreted as never hitherto they 
have been. Some memories cannot bear the ' cniel light' 
of ctose scrutiny, some poetries when tested prove fal- 
setto-noted. Richard Crashaw grows on us the more 
insight we gain. If he were as well known as George 
Herbert, he would be equally cherished, while his Poetry 
would be recognised as perfumed with all his devoutness 
and of a diviner ' stuff' and woven in a grander loom ; in 
sooth, infinitely deeper and finer in almost eveiy element 
of true singing as differenced from pious and gracious ver- 
sifying. In this hurrying-scurrying age, only twos-and- 
threes take time to hold communion with these ancient 
Worthies ; and hence my Essay, as with the Fletchers 
and Lord Brooke and Henry Vaughan, may win-back 
that recognition and love due to Crashaw. 

Then, in a much fuller and more adequate Memoir 
than hitherto furnished of William Crashaw, B.D., 


father of our Poet-also in our Volume Il.-the usually- 
criveu ancestral details ^yill appear from new and unused 
sources So that here and now I intend to limit myself 
to a brief statement of the few outward Facts t.e. re- 
serving their relation to the central thing m Richard 
Ckasha^v's life -his passing from Protestantism to 
Catholicism, and to contemporaries and mner fnends, 
and to his Poetry-to our announced Study^ 

WiLLMOTT in his ' Lives of the English Sacred Poets 
(vol. first, 1834, vol. second, 1839), begins his fine-toned 
little Notice thus : ' After an anxious search in al he 
accessible sources of information, I am able to t 11 httle 
of one of whom every lover of poetry must desire to know 
much The time of his birth and of his decease is m- 
W d in equal mystery n Our ' all' is still ' httle' as 
compared Jith what we yearn for; but we do not need 
to begin so dolorously as our predecessor, for we have 
discovered both the ' time of his Mrthmd of his decease. 
He was born in London in 1612-3-, this date being ar- 
rived at from the register-entry of his age on admission 
to the University, viz. 18 in 1630-1 (as herea ter stated) 
Shakespkare was then retired to his beloved Stratford 
Mi.TON was in the sixth year of his cherub-beauty. His 
father being ' Preacher at the Temple' at the da e would 
have determined London to have been his birthplace 
but his admission to Pembroke and his own signature at 
Peterhouse, 'Richardum CrashawZo,K/m...e.. prove 
it Who was his mother I have failed to find. The se- 
cond Mrs. William Cuas.kuv, celebrated in a remark- 

1 Fdition of 1834, n. 295 -, of 1S30, vol. i. p. 301. Tiknuuli. adds 
JJ!:X^:^1. knil..,e. ana repeats all Wiu.M-.. . erroneous 
dates, &c. 


able contemporary poetical tractate printed (if not pub- 
lished) by Ler bereaved husband (of which more anon 
and elsewhere, as supra), could not have been the Poet's 
mother, as she was not married to CiiAsir.vw (pater) until 
1619. We should gladly have exchanged the ' Honour 
of A^ertue or the Monument erected by the sorrowfull 
Husband and the Epitaphs annexed by learned and 
worthy men, to the imniortall memory of that worthy 
Gentle -woman M'*' Elizabeth Crashawe. "Who dyed 
in child-birth, and was buried in Whit-Chappel : Octob. 
8. 1620. In the 24 yeare of her age'— for a page on 
the first Mrs. Crashaw. Yet is it pleasant to know the 
motherless little lad received such a new mother as this 
tribute pictures. In 1G20 he was in his ninth year. Thus 
twice a broad shadow blackened his father's house and 
his home. Little more than a year had he his ' second' 

Our after-Memoir of the elder Crashaw shows that 
he was a man of no ordinary force of character and influ- 
ence. The Epistles- dedicatory to his numerous polemical 
books are addressed with evident familiarity to the fore- 
most in Church and State : and it is in agreement with 
this to learn (as we do) that Master Richard gained 
admission to the great ' Charterhouse' School through 
Sir Hexry Yelverton and Sir Ranuolrh Crew — the 
former the patron-friend of the saintly Dr. Sibbes, the 
latter of Herrick, and both of mark. The Register of 
Charterhouse as now extant begins in 1680. So that 
we know not the date of young Crashaw's entry on the 
' foundation' provided so munificently by Suttox.^ As 

1 The present eminent Head of ' Charterhouse,' Dr. Haig-Bkowx, 
strove to tind earlier docunients in vain for nic. 


we shall find, one of the Teachers — Brooke — is gratefully 
and characteristically remembered by our Worthy in one 
of his Latin poems, none the less gratefully that ' the 
rod' is recalled. He was 'Schoolmaster' from 1G27-8 
to 1G43. The age of admission was 10 to 14 : the latter 
would bring us to 1G27-8, or Brooke's first year of office. 
Probably, however, he entered sooner ; but neither Ro- 
liEUT Grey (1624-2G) nor William Middleton, A.M. 
(1G26-28), nor others of the Masters or celebrities of 
the famous School are celebrated by him, with the ex- 
ception of (afterwards) Bishop Laney. Francis Beau- 
mont was Head-Master in June 18, 1024, land I should 
have liked to have been able to associate Crashaw with 
the Beaumont family. Probably Dr. Joseph Beaumont 
of ' Psyche' was a school-fellow. 

How long the Charterhouse was attended is un- 
known ; but renewed researches at Cambridge add to as 
well as correct the usual dates of his attendance there. 
WiLLMOTT states that ' he was elected a scholar of Pem- 
broke Hall, March 26, 1632,' and remarks, 'and yet we 
find him lamenting the premature death of his friend, 
William Herrys, a fellow of the same College, which 
happened in the October of 1631.'^ He quotes from the 
Cole mss. The original register in the Admission - 
book of Pembroke College removes the difficulty, and is 
otherwise valuable, as will be seen. It is as follows : 

' Julij G. 1G31. Richardus Crashawe, Gul-ielmi pres- 
byteri filius, natus Londini annos habens 18, admissus est 
ad 2x mensaj ordincm sub tutela M" Tourney.' 

He was ' matriculated /jeHSJOHe;- of Pembroke, March 2G, 

1 As before, vol. ii. p. 30i'. 


1(k)2,' but, as above, his 'admission' preceded. Belong- 
ing to Essex, it is not improbable that Crasiiaw and 
Harris were school-fellows at the Charterhouse. His 
' friendships' and associates, so winsomely ' sung' of, will 
demand full after-notice. In 1632-3 appeared George 
Herbert's ' Temple ;' an influential event in our Poet's 
history. He took the degree of B.A. in 1G34. In 1G34 ' 
he published anonymously his volume of Latin Epigrams 
and other Poems ; a very noticeable book from a youth of 
20, especially as most must have been composed long 
prenously. He passed from Pembroke to Peterhouse 
in 163G; and again I have the satisfaction to give, for 
the first time, the entry in the old College Register. It 
is as follows : 

' Anno Domini millesimo sexcentesimo tricesimo 
sexto vicesimo die mensis Novembris Richardus Crashaw 
admissus fuit a Reverendo in Christo Patre ac D"" D"" 
Francisco Episcopo Elfecisi ad locum sive societatem 
Magistri Simon Smith legitime vacantem in Collegio 
sive Domo S" Petri, et vicesimo secundo die ejusdem 
mensis coram Magistro et Sociis ejusdem Collegii per- 
sonaliter constitutus, juramentum prssstitit quod singulis 
Ordinationibus et Statutis Collegii (quantum in ipso est) 
reverenter obediret, et specialiter prwter hoc de non ap- 
pellando contra amotionem suam secundum modum et 
formam statutorum pr£edictonam et de salvando cistam 
Magistri Thomre de Castro Bemardi et Magri Thoma? 
Holbrooke (quantum in ipso est) indemnum, quo jura- 
mento prrestito admissus fuit a Magistro Collegii in per- 
petuum socium ejusdem Collegii et in locum supradic- 
tum. Per me Richardum Crashaw Londinensem.' (p. 


He was made Fellow in 1G37, and ^I.A. in 1638 ; look- 
ing forward to becoming a ' :Minister' of the Gospel. 
His Latin Poems in honour of, and in pathetic appeal 
regarding Peterhocse, are of the rarest interest, and 
suggest much elucidatory of his great ' change' m re- 
ligious matters; a change that must have been a sad 
shock to his ultra-Protestant father, but in which, be- 
yond all gainsaying, conscience ruled, if the heart qui- 
vered While at the University he was called on to 
contribute to the various ' Collections' issued from 1G31 
onward; and it certainly is once more noticeable that 
such a mere youth should have been thus recognised. 
His Verses — Latin and English -appeared thus with 
those of Henry Moke, Joseph Beaumont, Edward 
King ('Lycidas'), Cowley, and others; and more than 
hold their own. In 1G35 Shelford, ' priest' of Rikgs- 
• FIELD, obtained a laudatory poem from him for his ' Five 
Pious and Learned Discourses.' According to Anthony 
A- Wood, on the authority of one who knew {not from 
the Registers), he took a degree in 1G41 at Oxford.^ 

Of his inner Life and experiences during these years 
(twelve at least), and the influences that went to shape 
his decision and after-course, and his relation to the 
Countess of Denbigh, I shall speak fully and I trust 
helpfully in our Essay. We need to get at the Facts 
and Circumstances to pronounce a righteous verdict. 

1 I feel disposed lo think tb:u it must have been some other 
K,CH uu, Ckashaw, albeit attendance at both Universities was not 
uncommon. Wooi.s .vords are. that he was 'incorporated in 164 
■It Oxford; and his authority "the private observation of a certain 
-Master of Arts, that was this year living in the University; aud 
i.e adds, he was Master of Arts, in which de-rce it is 
probable he was incorporated' (Fasti, .<:. «.). 


For his great- braiucil, stout-hearted, iron-willed Father, 
the stormy period was cong'enial : but for his son the 
atmosphere was mephitic ; as the Editor's ' Preface to 
the Learned Reader,' in his ' character' of liim, suggests. 
Signatures were being put unsolemnly to the ' Solemn 
League and Covenant,' and as a political not a religious 
thing, by too many. Richard Crashaw could not do 
that, and the crash of ' Ejection' came. Here is the 
rescript from the Register of PicTERuorsE once more 
unused hitherto :i 

' Whereas in pursuite of an ordinance of Parliament 
for regulating and reforming of the Universitie of Cam- 
bridge, I have ejected Mr. Beaumont, Mr. Penniman, 
Mr. Crashaw, Mr. Holder, Mr. Tyringham, late fellowes 
of Peterhouse, in Cambridge. And whereas Mr. Charles 
Hotham, Robert Quarles, Howard Becher, Walter Ellis, 
Edward Sammes, have been examined and approved by 
the Assembly of Divines now sitting at Westminster, 
according to the said Ordinance as fitt to be Fellowes : 
These are therefore to require you, and every of you, 
to receive the said Charles Hotham, Robert Quarles, 
Howard Becher, Walter Ellis, Masters of Arts ; and 
Edward Sammes, Bach', as fellowes of your Colledge in 
room of the said Mr. Beaumont, Mr. Penniman, Mr. 
Crashaw, Mr. Holder, Mr. Tyringham, formerly ejected, 
and to give them place according to their seniority in the 
Universitie, in reference to all those that are or shall 
hereafter bee putt in by mee accordinge to the Ordinance 

' I owe very hearty thanks to my good friend Mr. W. Aldis 
Wright, M.A., Trinity College, Cambridge, and to the Masters and 
other authorities of IVmbroko and Peterhouse, for unfailing atten- 
tion to my inquiries and the most zealous aid throughout. 

VOL. I. '' 


of Parliament aforesaid. Given under my hand and 
seale the cleaventh day of June anno 1G44. 

' Manchester. 
' To the Master, President; and Fellowes of Peterhouse, in Cambridge.' 

(p. 518.) 

' The ejection' of 1G44, like that larger one of 1662, 
brought much sorrow and trial to a numbsr of good and 
true souls. To one so gentle, shy, self-introspective as 
Crashaw, it must have been as the tearing down of a 
nest to a poor bird. His fellow-sufferers went hither and 
thither. Our first glimpse of our Worthy after his ' ejec- 
tion' is in 1646, when the ' Steps to the Temple' and 
' Delights of the Muses' appeared, with its Editor's 
touching saying at the close of his Preface ' now dead to 
us.' A second edition, with considerable additions, was 
published in 1648. Previous to 1646 he had ' gone over' 
to Catholicism ; for in the ' Steps' of that year is ' An 
Apologie' for his ' Hymn' — ' In Memory of the Vertuous 
and Learned Lady Madre de Teresa, that sought an 
early Marty rdome.' In 1646 it is headed simply ' An 
Apologie for the precedent Hymne:' in the 'Carmen 
Deo Nostro' of 1652 it is more fully inscribed ' An Apo- 
logie for the foregoing Hymn, as hauing been writt 
when the author was yet among the Protestantes.' His 
two Latin poems, ^ Fides qvce sola jvstificat non est sine 
spe et dilectione' and ' Bapiismtis non toUit ftitura pec- 
cata,' were first published in 1648. Turnbull was either 
ignorant of their existence or intentionally suppressed 

Our Worthy did not long remain in England. He 
retired to France ; and his little genial poem on sending 
' two green apricocks' to Cowley sheds a gleam of light 


on Ins residence in Paris. Cowley was in the ' gay city' 
in 1G4G as Secretary to Lord Jermyn; and inasmuch as 
the voUnne of that year contained his own alternate-poem 
on ' Hope,' I like to imagine that he carried over a 
copy of it to Crashaw, and renewed their old friendship. 
Cowley, it is told, found our Poet in great poverty : but 
Car's verses somewhat lighten the gloom. The ' Secre- 
tary' of Lord Jermyn introduced his friend to the Queen 
of Charles I., who was then a fugitive in Paris. So it 
usually runs : but Crasuaw had previously ' sung' of 
and to her Majesty. From the Queen the Poet obtained 
letters of recommendation to Italy ; and from a contem- 
porary notice, hereafter to be used, we learn he became 
' Secretary' at Rome to Cardinal Palotta. He appears 
to have remained in Rome until 1649-50, and by very 
' plain speech' on the moraUties, that is immoralities, 
of certain ecclesiastics, to have drawn down on himself 
Italian jealousy and threats. His ' good' Cardinal pro- 
vided a place of shelter in the Lady-chapel of Loretto, 
of which he was made a Canon. But his abode there was 
very brief; for, by a document sent me from Loretto, I 
ascertained that he died of fever after a few weeks' re- 
sidence only, and was buried within the chapel there, in 
1G50.^ Cowley shed 'melodious tears' over his dear 
friend, in which he turns to fine account his '■fever'' end: 
and with his priceless tribute, of which Dr. Johnson 

1 My 'document' was an extract from an old Register of the 
Church. I lent it to the late Mr. Robert Bell (who intended to 
include Crashaw in his ' Poets'), and somehow it got astray. My 
priest-correspondent at Loretto was ilead when I applied for another 
copy, and the Register has disappeared. Of the fact, however, that 
Cuasiiaw died ih IGoO there can be no doubt. 


said, ' In these verses there are beauties which cominon 
authors may justly think not only above their attainment, 
but above their ambition,'^— I close for the present our 
Memoir : 

Ok the Death of Mh. Crashaw. 

Poet and Saint ! to thee alone are giv'n 

The two most sacred names of Earth and Heav'n, 

The hardest, rarest union which can he 

Next that of godhead with humanity. 

Long did the Muses hanish'd slaves ahide, 

And buUt vain p-\Tamids to mortal pride ; 

Like Moses thou (tho' spells and chai-ms withstand) 

Hast brought them nobly home, back to their Holy Land. 

Ah, wietched we. Poets of Earth ! but thou 
Wert living, the same Poet which thou'rt now ; 
Whilst angels sing to thee then- ayi-es divine, 
And joy in an applause so gi-eat as thine. 
Equal society with them to hold, 
Thou need'st not make new songs, but say the old ; 
And they (kind spirits !) shaU aU rejoice to see, 
How little less than they, exalted man may be. 

Still the old heathen gods in numbers dwell. 
The heav'nliest thing on Earth still keeps up HeU : 
Nor have we yet quite purg'd the Christian land ; 
Still idols here, like calves at Bethel stand. 
And tho' Pan's death long since all or'cles broke. 
Yet stiU in rhyme the fiend Apollo spoke ; 
Nay, with the worst of heathen dotage, we 
(Vain men !) the monster woman deifie ; 
Find stars, and tie our fates there in a face. 
And Paradise in them, by whom we lost it, place. 
What diff'rent faults con-upt our Muses thus? 
Wanton as girls, as old wives, fabulous. 

Thy spotless Muse, like Mary, did contain 
The boundless Godhead ; she ilid well disdain 

1 Lite of Cowi.iiY. in Livos <.f tlie Poets. . 


That her eternal verse employ'il should be 

On a less subject than eternity ; 

And for a sacred mistress scora'd to take 

But her whom God Himself scorn'd not His spouse to make ; 

It (in a kind) her miracle did do, 

A fruitful mother was, and vii'gin too. 

How well (blest Swan) did Fate contrive thy death. 
And made thee render up thy tuneful breath 
In thy great mistress's arms ! Thou most divine, 
And richest off 'ring of Loretto's shrine ! 
■\Vhere, like some holy sacrifice t' expire, 
A fever burns thee, and Love lights the fii-e. 
Angels (they say) brought the fam'd chappel there, 
And bore the sacred load in triumph thro' the air : 
"Tis siu-er much they brought thee there ; and they, 
And thou, theh* charge, went singing all the way. 

Pardon, my Mother-Church, if I consent 
That angels led him, when froru thee he went ; 
For ev'n in eiTor, sure no danger is, 
AVhen join'd with so much piety as his. 
Ah ! mighty God, with shame I speak't, and gi-ief ; 
Ah ! that oui- gi'eatest faults were in belief ! 
And our weak reason were ev'n weaker yet. 
Rather than thus, oui- wills too strong for it. 
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might 
Be wi-ong ; his life, I'm sure, was in the right : 
And I, myself, a Catholick will be ; 
So far at least, gi-eat Saint ! to pray to thee. 

Hail, Bard triumphant! and some care bestow 
On us, the Poets militant below : 
Oppos'd by our old enemy, adverse Chance, 
Attack'd by Envy and by Ignorance ; 
Enchain'd by Beauty, tortur'd by desu'es, 
Expos'd by tyrant-love, to savage beasts and fires. 
Thou from low Earth in nobler flames didst rise. 
And like Elijah, mount alive the skies. 
Elisha-like (but with a wish much less, • 
More fit thy gi'eatuess and my littleness ;) 
Lo here I beg (I whom thou once didst prove 
So humble to esteem, so good to love) 


Not that thy ep'rit might on me donbled be, 

I ask but half thy mighty sp'rit for me : 

And when my Muse soars with so strong a wing, 

'Twill leara of things divine, and first of thee to sing.' 

Alexander B. Grosart, 

1 Works, vol. i. (1707) pp. 4-1-7. Line 3 by a strange oversight is 
misprinted in all the editions I have seen ' The hard, and rarest . . .' 
I accept Willmott's correction. 


VOL. I. 



The title-pnKcs, with coUaliou, of the ori-inal aiul c-arly edi- 
tions of • Steps to the Temple' and ' The Delights of the MuseB 
(1(546 to 1670) are here given succesBively : 

\sre(l:lion,irAr,. (1) 



Sacred Poems, 

With other Delights of the 

By Richard Crashaw, sowr- 

/hues (/Ff.mbrokf. //(///, and 

/,//<• Fe//(ru> i/S. Peters Co//. 

in Cambridge. 

/>rhi/cd and Publis/ied according to Order. 

I'rintcd by T. W. for Humphrey Moselcy, and 
arc to be sold at his shop at the Princes 
Armcs in S' I\mh Church- 
yard. 1 646. 





Other Poems written on 
severall occasions. 

By Richard Crashaw, sometimes of Pem- 
broke Hall, and late Fellow o/S<\ Pe- 
ters Colledge in Cambridge. 

Mart. Die mihi quid melius desidiosus agas. 


Printed by T. W. for H. Moseley, at 

the Princes Armes in S. Pauls 

Churchyard, 1646. [12"] 

CoUation : Title-page ; the Preface to the Reader, pp. G ; the 
Author's Motto and short Note to Reader, pp. 2 [all unpaged] ; 
' Steps to the Temple,' pp. 99 ; title-page of ' Delights,' as 
supra, and pp. 103-138; the Tahle, pp. 4. 

VOL. I. / 

•2d edition. It! 18. 




Sacred Poems. 

The Delights of the Muses. 

By Richard Crashaw, some- 

times 0/ Pembroke Hall, and 

late fellow o/S. Peters Coll. 

in Cambridge. 

The second Edition wherein are added divers 
pieces not be/ore extant. 


Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be 

sold at his Shop at the Princes Armes 

in S! Pauls Church-yard. 

1648. [12"] 

The title-page to tlie ' DeUglits of the Muses' is exactly the 
same with that of 1646, except the date '1648.' Collation: 
Engi-aved title-page ; title-page (printed); the Preface to the 
Keader and the Author's Motto, pp. 6; ' Steps.' pp. HO; the 
Tahle, pp. 4 ; the ' Delights ;' title-page ; the Table, pp. i ; 
Poems, pp. 71. 

ill fMtiott, 1G52. 



Te Decet Hymnvs 
Sacred Poems, 




Most humbly Presented. 


My Lady 

Ihe Covntesse of 



Her most deuoted Seruant. 

R. C. 

In heaty [sk] acknowledgment of his immortall 
obligation to her Goodnes & Charity. 

At Paris 

By Peter Targa, Printer to the Arch- 

bishope ef [sic] Paris, in S. Victors streete at 

the golden sunne. 

M.DC.LII. [8"°] 

Collation: Title-page; Verses by Car, pp.3; Verse-Letter 
to Countess of Denbigh, pp. 3 [all unpaged]; the Poems, pp. 
131. (See onr Preface for more on this and preceding and suc- 
ceeding volumes, and for notice of a separate edition of the 
Verse-Letter to the Countess of Denbigh.) 

ith edition, evrontously desujiMled 'id edition, l«7(i. 






Of The 




Deo Nostro. 

By Ric. Crashaw, sometimes Fellow of Pem- 
broke Hall, and late Fellow of S\ Peters 
Collcdge in Cambridge. 

The 2? Edition. 

In the Savoy, 

Printed by T. N. for Henry Herringham at the 

Blew Anchor in the Loiver Walk of the 

New Exchange. 1670. [8'°] 

Collation : Engraving of a ' Temple ;' title-page ; the Pre- 
face to the Reader and the Author's Motto, pp. 8 ; the Tahle, 
pp. 6 [aU unpaged] ; ' Steps,' pp. 77 ; ' DeUghts,' pp. 81-137 ; 
' Carmen Deo Nostro, Te Decet Hymnvs,' pp. 141-208. For 
later editions see our Preface, as before, and for details on aU, 
early and recent, and Manuscripts ; and also our Memorial-In- 
troduction and Essay. The ' Preface' of 1646 was reprinted in 
1648 without change, save a few slight orthographical differ- 
ences, and these : p. xlvi. line 3, 'theii-' for ' its dearest :' p. sl\ii. 
line 1, 'subburd' for 'suburb:' and ibid, line 19, 'then' for 
' than:' 1648 our text. It foUows this Note in its own place. G. 



Learned Keadeu, 

The Author's Mend will uot usiu"pe much upon thy 
eye : This is ouely for those whom tlie name of our divine 
Poet hath not yet seized^ into admii-ation. I dare under- 
take tliat what Jamblicus^ [in vita Pythuijonc) affirmetli of 
his Master, at his contemplations, these Poems can, viz. 
They shall Uft thee, Header, some yards above the ground : 
and, as in Pythagoras Schoole, eveiy temper was first 
tuned into a height by severall proportions of Musick, and 
spu-ituaUz'd for one of liis weighty lectures ; so maist thou 
take a poem hence, and tune thy soule by it, into a hea- 
venly pitch ;3 and thus refined and borne up upon the 
wings of meditation, in these Poems thou maist talke freely 
of God, and of that other state. 

Here's Herbert's* second, but equall, who hath retriv'd 
Poetry of late, and retm-nd it up to its piinoitive use ; let 

1 Query, the legal term 'seized' = taken possession of? So Vau- 
oiiAN, Siluiist, 


' O give it ful obedience, that so seu'd 
Of all I hare, I may not move thy wrath' (i. 164), 

' Thou so long seiz'd of my heart' (ib. p. 289). G. 

- = lamblichus, the celebrated Neo-Platonic philosopher, author 
of T'^i UuSayiceu ajVVea?, concemirifj; the Philosophy of Pythagoras. G. 

•* Cf. poem on Lessius, lines IS ;ui(l 38. G. 

■• See ourMemorial-lntroiluction and Kssay, for remarks on Hek- 
bekt's relation to Ckashaw. G. 


it bound back to hcaveu gates, whence it came. Thinke 
yee St. Augustine would have stejnied his gi-aver learning 
with a booke of Poetry, had he fancied its dearest end to 
be the vanity of love -sonnets and epithalamiums ? No. 
no, he thought with tliis our Poet, tliat eveiy foot in a 
high-bome verse, might helpe to measm-e the soule into 
that better world. Divine Poetry, I dare hold it in position, 
against Suarez on the subject, to be the language of the 
angels ; it is the quintessence of phantasie and discourse 
center 'd in Heaven ; 'tis tlie veiy out-goings of the soule ; 
'tis what alone our Author is able to tell you, and that in 
his owne vei'se. 

It were prophane but to mention here in tlie Preface 
those under-headed Poets, retainers to seven shares and a 
halfe ■} madrigall fellowes, whose onely businesse in verse, 

1 ' Seven shares and a halfe.' The same phrase occurs in Ben 
Jouson's Poetaster. The player whom Captain Tucca bullied and 
fleeced, was one of Henslowe's company, as sho^vTi by Tucca's sting- 
ing taunt that thev had ' fortmie and the good year on their side; 
the facts being that the Fortune theatre had just been built, and 
that the year had been an exceptionally bad one with the hitherto 
prosperoiis plavers. To call attention tacitly to the allusion ' fortune' 
!«, in the original editions, printed in italics. Various other players 
having been mimicked, ridiculed, and reviled, Tucca then bids fare- 
well to his new acquaintance with— ' commend me to seven shares 
and a half ;' a remark which bv its position seems to point to the 
chief men of the companv. But a great part of the oflice of a man- 
ager like Henslowe was, as exhibited in Henslowe's ovra Diarj-, just 
such as is depreciatinglv described in our text. He had various 
dramatic authors, poetasters, and others in his pay and debt. Hence 
as the Poetaster was written in 1601, and this preface m 1646, it 
mav be concluded, that 'seven shares and a half was the established 
proportion taken bv, and therefore a theatrical cant name for, the 
Manager. It follows also that as the Player was one of Henslowe s 
companv, the seven shares and a half alluded to by Jonson was 
Henslowe himself, from whom he had seceded, and with whom he 
had probablv quarrelled. The question, however, yet remains open, 
whether seven shares and a half wa« the proportion received by a 
manager, or that taken bv a proprietor-manager, such as Henslowe 
was. JSIalone has conjectured that Henslowe drew tifteeu shares; if 
so, the other seven and a half may have been a.s rent, and out of 
<me of the two halves may have come the general expenses of the 
house. G. 


is to rime ii poore sixpenny sonic, ii suburb-sinner' into 
Hell: — May sudi arrogant pretenders to Poetry vanish, 
with their prodigious issue of tumorous^ heats and flashes 
of theii" adulterate braines, and for ever after, may tlus our 
Poet fill uj) the better roome of man. Oh ! when the gene- 
ral! aiTaignment of Poets shall be, to give an accompt of 
tlieir higher soules, witli what a triumphant brow shall our 
divine Poet sit above, and looke do\\iie upon poore Homer, 
ViUGiL, HoR.\cE, Cl.\udian, &c. ? wlio had amongst them the 
ill lucke to talke out a great part of theii- gallant genius, 
upon bees, dung, froggs, and gnats, &c., and not as liimself 
here, ui)on Scriptiu'es, divine gi-aces, mart}TS and angels. 

Reader, we stile liis Sacred Poems, Steps to the Temple, 
and aptly, for in the Temple of God, under His wing, he 
led Ids life, in St. Marie's Chm-ch neere St. Peter's Col- 
ledge : tliere he lodged under Teiitulliax's roofe of angels; 
there he made liis nest more gladlj^ than David's swallow 
neere tlie house of God, where like a primitive saint, ho 
offered more prayers in the night than others nsuallj- offer 
iu the day ; there he penned these Poems, steps for happy 
soviles to climbe heaven by. And tliose other of his pieces, 
intituled The Delights of the Muses, (though of a more hu- 
mane mixture) are as sweet as they are innocent. 

The praises that follow, are but few of many that might 
be conferr'd on him : he was excellent in five languages 
(besides his mother tongue), vid. Hebrew, Greek, Latin, 
Itahan, Spanish, the two last whereof he had little helpe 
in, they were of his own acquisition. 

Amongst liis other accomplishments in accademick (as 
well i)ious as harmlesse arts) he made his skUl iu Poetiy, 
Miisick, Drawing, Limniing, Graving (exercises of his curi- 
ous invention and sudden fancy) to be but Ids subservient 

* ^Sixpenny soule, a suburb sinner.^ This was the ordinary town 
courtesan, who, eschewing the penny and twopenny rabble of the pit 
and gallery, frequented the cheapest of the better-clas.s seats, or main 
body of the house. G. 

- = swollen. G. 


recreations for vacant lioures, not the grand businesse of 
liis soule. 

To the former qualifications I might adclc tliat wliich 
would cro^vne them all, liis rare moderation in diet (almost 
Lessian temperance^) ; lie never created a Muse out of dis- 
tempers, nor (with our Canaiy scribblers^) cast any strange 
mists of surfets before the inteUectuaU beames of his mind 
or memory, the latter of wliicli he was so much a master 
of, that he had there under locke and key in readinesse, 
the richest treasures of the best Greek and Latiue poets, 
some of wliich Authors liee had more at his command 
by lieart, than others that onely read their works, to retaine 
little, and understand lesse. 

Enough Reader, I intend not a volume of praises larger 
than his booke, nor need I longer transport thee to tliink 
over his vast perfections : I will conclude all tliat I have 
impartially writ of this learned j'oung Gent, (now dead to 
us) as he liiraseKe doth, with the last line of liis poem 
upon Bishop Andrews' pictiu'e before lus SeiTnons : Verte 

' Look on his following leaves, and see him breath.'' 

' = as taught by Lcssius, whose praise Crashaw sang. See the 
Poem in its place in the ' Delights.' G. 
- = drinkers of Canary (wine) '? G. 
•* On the authorship of this Preface see our Preface. G. 


Live lesuB, live, and let it bee 
My life, to dye for love of Thee. 

^acrcb |poctrn. 





VOL. I. 


Loe ! wliere a wounded heart with bleeding eyes conspire. 
Is slie a flaming fountain, or a weeping fire ? 


Hail, sister springs ! i 

Parents of syluer-footed rills I 

Euer-bubliug things ! 
Thawing crystall ! snowy hills 
Still si)ending, neiier spent ! I mean 5 

Thy fair eyes, sweet Magdalene 1 

1 This couplet appeared first in 1648 edition of the ' Steps to the 
Temple ;' but it properly belongs to the engraving in ' Carmen Deo 
Xostro' of 1652, which is reproduced in our illustrated 4to edition. G. 

= ■ The Weeper' appeared originally in the ' Steps' of 1646 (pp. 
1-5) : was reprinted in editions of 1648 (pp. 1-6), 1652 (pp. 85-92), 
1670 (pp. 1-5). For reasons stated in our Preface, our text follows 
that of 1652 ; but see Notes and Illustrations at close of the poem 
for details of various readings, &c. dtc, and our Essay for critical 
remarks on it from Popk to Dn. Gkorok Macdonai.d. (!. 


Heauens thy fair eyes be ; 

Heauens of euer-falling starres. 

'Tis seed-time still ■with thco ; 

And starres thou sow'st, whose haruest dares i o 
Promise the Earth, to counter-shine 
Whateuer makes heaun's forehead fine. 

But we' are deceiued all : 
Starres indeed they are too true ; 
For they but seem to fall, 1 5 

As heaun's other spangles doe : 
It is not for our Earth and vs 
To shine in things so pretious. 


Ypwards thou dost weep : 
Heaun's bosome drinks the gentle stream. 20 
AVhere tli' milky riuers creep. 
Thine floates aboue, and is the cream. 
Waters aboue th' heauns, what they be 
We' are taught best by thy teares and thee. 


Euery morn from hence, 25 

A brisk cherub something sippes, 
AVhose sacred influence 
Addes sweetnes to his sweetest lippes ; 


Then to his musick ; and his song 

Tasts of this breakfast all day long. 30 


Wlieu some new bright guest 
Takes vp among tlie starres a room, 
^\jid Heaun will make a feast : 
Angels with crystall violls come phials 

And draw from these full eyes of thine, 35 

Their Master's water, tlieir own wine. 


The deaw no more will weep 
The primrose's pale cheek to deck : 
The deaw no more will sleep 
Nuzzel'd in the lilly's neck ; 40 

]\Iuch rather would it be thy tear, 

And leaue them both to tremble here. 


Not the soft gold which 
Steales from the amber-weeping tree. 
Makes Sorrow halfe so rich 
As the drops distil'd from thee. 
Sorrowe's best iewels lye in these 
Caskets, of which Heaven keeps the keyes. 


When Sorrow would be seen 
In her brightest majesty : 50 



(For she is a Queen) : 

Then is she drest by none })ut thee. 
Then, and only tlien, she weaies 
Her proudest pearles : 1 mean, thy teares. 


Not in the Euening's eyes, 55 

"WTien they red with weeping are 

For the Sun tliat dyes ; 

Sitts Sorrow with a face so fair. 
Nowhere but here did ever meet 
Sweetnesse so sad, sadnesse so sweet. 60 


Sadnesse all the while 

Shee sits in such a throne as this, 

Can doe nought but smile, 

Nor beleeves she Sadnesse is : 
Gladnesse it selfe would be more glad, 65 

To bee made soe sweetly sad. 


There's no need at all, 

That the balsom-sweating bough 

So coyly should let fall 

His med'cinable teares; for now 70 

Nature hath learnt to' extract a deaw 
More soueraign and sweet, from you. 



Yot let the poore drops weep 

(Weeping is the case of Woe) : 

Softly let them creep, 75 

Sad tliat they are vanquish't so. 
They, tliougli to others no releife, 
Balsom may be for their own greife. 


Golden though he be. 

Golden Tagus murmures though. 80 

AVere liis way by thee, 

Content and quiet he would goe ; 
Soe much more rich would he esteem 
Thy syluer, then his golden stream. 


Well does the May that lyes 85 

Smiling in thy cheeks, confesse 

The April in thine eyes ; 

jNIutuall sweetnesse they expresse. 
No April ere lent kinder showres, 
Xor May return'd more faithfull flowres. 90 


O cheeks ! Bedds of chast loues, 
By your own shoAvi'es seasonably dash't. 
Eyes ! Nests of milky doues. 
In your own Avells decently washt. 


O wit of Loue ! that thus could place 95 

Fountain and garden in one face. 


O sweet contest ! of woes 

"With loues ; of tcares with smiles disputing ! 

fair and freindly foes, 

Each other kissing and confuting ! 100 

While rain and sunshine, cheekes and eyes 
Close in kind contrarietyes. 


But can these fair flouds be 
Freinds with the bosom-fires that fill thee ! 
Can so great flames agree 105 

^Eternal teares should thus distill thee ! 

O flouds ! fires ! O suns ! O showres ! 

Mixt and made freinds by Loue's sweet powres. 


'TAvas his well-pointed dart 

That digg'd these wells, and drest this wine ; 1 1 o 

And taught the wounded heart 

The way into these weeping eyn. 
Vain loucs auant ! bold hands forbear ! 
The Lamb liath dipp't His white foot here. 


And now where'ere He strayes, 1 1 5 

Among the Galilean mountaines, 


Or more vnwellcome wayes ; 

He's followVl by two faithfull fonntaines ; 
Two walking baths, two weeping motioiis, 
Portable, and compendious oceans. 120 


O thou, thy Lord's fair store ! 
In tliy so rich and rare expenses, 
Enen when He show'd most poor 
He might prouoke the wealth of princes. 

AVhat prince's wanton' st pride e'er could 125 

Wash with sylvier, wipe with gold ? 

Who is that King, hut He 
Who calls 't His crowTi, to be call'd thine, 
That thus can boast to be 
Waited on by a wandi-ing mine, 130 

A voluntary mint, that strowes 

Warm, syluer shnwres wher're He goes? 

O pretious prodigall ! 
Fair spend-thrift of thy-self ! thy measure 
(Mercilesse lone I) is all. 135 

Euen to the last pearle in thy threasure : thesaurvs, 
All places, times, and obiects be [Latin. 

Thy teares' sweet opportunity. 

VOL. I. u 



Does the day-starre rise ? 

Still thy teares doe fall and fall. 14° 

Does Day close his eyesl 

Still the fountain weeps for all. 
Let Xight or Day doe what they will, 
Thou hast thy task : thou weepest still. 


Does thy song lull the air ? 1 45 

Thy falling teares keep faithfull time. 
Does thy sweet-breath'd praire 
Vp in clouds of incense climb ? 
Still at each sigh, that is, each stop, 
A bead, that is, a tear, does drop. ' 5° 


At these thy weeping gates 
(Watching their watry motion), 
Each winged moment waits : 
Takes his tear, and gets him gone. 

By thine ey's tinct enobled thus, ^55 

Tune laves him vp : he's pretious. 


Time, as by thee He passes, 
]Makes thy ever-watry eyes 
His hower-glasses. 
By them His steps He rectifies. i6o 


The saiuls He us'd, no longer please, 
For His owne sands Hcc'l use tliy seas. 


Xot, ' so long she liued,' 

Shall thy tomb report of thee ; 

15ut, ' so long she grieued :' 165 

Tims must we date thy memory. 
Others by moments, months, and yearos 
Measure their ages ; thou, by tearcs. 


So doe i^erfumes expire, 

So sigh tormented sweets, opprest 170 

With proud vnpittying fire. 

Such teares the suffring rose, that's vcxt 
With vngentle flames, does shed, 
Sweating in a too warm bed. 


Say, ye bright brothers, 175 

The fugitiue sons of those fair eyes, 
Your fruitfuU mothers ! 
^^^lat make you here 1 what hopes can 'tice 
You to be born 1 what cause can borrow 
You from those nests of noble sorrow? 180 


AVliither away so fast ? 
For sure the sluttish earth 


Your sweetiies cannot tast, 

Nor does the dust deserve your birtli. 

Sweet, whither hast you then] O say 185 

Why you trip so fast away ? 


We goe not to seek 

The darlings of Aurora's bed, 

The rose's modest cheek, 

Kor the violet's humble head. 1 90 

Though the feild's eyes too Weepers be, 
Because they want such teares as we. 

INIuch lesse mean we to trace 
Tlie fortune of inferior gemmes, 
Preferr'd to some proud face, I95 

Or pertch't vpon fear'd diadems : 
Crown'd heads are toyes. We goe to meet 
A worthy object, our Lord's feet. 

With some sliortcomings— superficial rather than substan- 
tive—' The Weeper' is a lovely poem, and weU desei-ves its 
place of honour at the commencement of the ' Steps to the 
Temple; as in editions of 1646, 1648, and 1670. Accordingly 
we have spent the utmost pains on our text of it, taking for 
basis that of 1652. The various reatUngs of the different edi- 
tions and of the Sancroft ms. are given below for the capable 
student of the ultimate perfected form. I have not hesitated 


to correct several mispviuts of the text of 1052 from the earlier 

The present poem appears very imperfectly in tlie first 
edition (164H), consisting there of only twenty-three stanzas 
instead of thirty-three (and so too in 1670 edition). The stanzas 
that are not given therein are xvi. to xxbc. (on the last see 
onward). But on the other hand, exclusive of interesting va- 
riations, the text of ICtid supplies two entire stanzas (xi. and 
xx^■ii.) ih'opped out in the editions of 1(!48 and 1052, though 
hoth are in 1070 edition and in the Sancroft sis. Moreover I" 
accept the succession of the stanzas in 10-10, so far as it goes, 
coulii-med as it is hy the Sancroft ms. A third stanza in 1652 
edition (st. xi. there) as also in 1048 edition, I omit, as it be- 
longs self-revealiugly to ' The Teare,' and interrupts the meta- 
phor iu ' The Weeper.' Another stanza (xxix.) might seem to 
demand excision also, as it is in part repeated iu ' The Teare ;" 
but tlie new lines are dainty and would be a loss to ' The 
Weeper.' Our text therefore is that of 1052, as before, with 
restorations from 1040. 

The form of the stanza in the editions of 1640, 1048 and 
1070 is thus: 

In 1052 from stanza xv. (there) to end, 

but I have made all uniform, and agi'eeably to above of 1052. 

I would now -submit variations, illustrations and corrections, 
under the successive stanzas and lines. 

Couplet on the engi-aving of ' The Weeper.' In 1052 ' Sainte' 
is misprinted ' Sauite,' one of a number that remind us that the 


volume was printed in Paris, not London. In all the other edi- 
tions the heading ' Saiute Maiy Magdalene' is omitted. 

St. i. line 2. 1646, 1 48 and 1670 editions read ' silver- 
forded.' Were it only for the reading of the text of 1652 ' sil- 
ver-footed,' I should have been thankful for it ; and I accept it 
the more readily in that the Saxcboft ms. from Crashaw's owri 
copy, also reads ' silver-footed.' The Homeric compound epi- 
thet occurs in Hebbick contemporarily in his Hesperidea, 

' I send, I send here my siipremest kiss 
To thee, my sitrer -footed Thamasis' 

[that is, the river Thames] . William Browxe earlier, has 
'fairs silver-footed Thetis' (Works by Hazlitt, i. p. 188). Cf. 
also the fiist line of the Elegy on Dr. Porter in our ' AireUes' 
—printed for the fii-st time by us : ' Stay silver-footed Came.' 

With reference to the long-accepted reading ' &]l\er -lorded,'' 
the epithet is loosely used not for in the state of being 
forded, but for in a state to be forded, or fordable, and hence 
shallow. The thought is not quite the same as that intended 
to be conveyed by such a phiase as ' silver stream of Thames,' 
but pictures the bright, pellucid, sUveiy whiteness of a clear 
mountain lill. As silver- shallow— a meaning which, as has 
been said, cannot be faii-ly obtained from it— can it alone be 
taken as a double epithet." In any other sense the h^-phen is 
only an attempt to connect two qualities which refuse to be 
coimected. All difficulty and obscurity are removed by ' silver- 

St. iii. line 1. The ' we' ' may be = wee, as printed in 1646, 
but in 1648 it is ' we are,' and in 1670 'we're,' and in the last, 
line 2, ' they're." The Sasceoft ms. in line 2, reads ' they are 
indeed' for ' indeed they are.' 

St. iv. line 4, 1646 and 1670 have ' crawles' and 'crawls' re- 
spectively, for 'floates,' as in 1648 and our text. The Sas- 
CROFT MS. also reads ' crawles.' In line 3, 1646 and 1670 ' meet' 
is inadvertently substituted for ' creep.' 
Lines 5 and 6, 1646 and 1670 read 

• Heaven, of such f:iire floods as this. 
Heaven the christall ocean is.' 

So too the Saxckoft ms., save that for ' this' it has ' these." 


St. V. line 2. ' Brisk" is = activo, niinblc. So^ — and some- 
thing more — Sn.vKESi'KAUF. : ' lie made mc mad, to see Lira sliiue 
so brhk' (1 Henry IV. 3). 

Line 3. Ifi-ifi, l(i70 and Sancroft ms. read ' soft' for ' sa- 
cred' of 1652 and 1(!48. 

Line 6, ' Breakfast.' See our Essay on this and similar 
homely words, with parallels. 1048 reads ' his' for ' this break- 

St. vi. line 4, ' \-iolls'= ' phials' or small bottles. The read- 
ing in 1646 and 1670 is ' Angels with their hottlfs come.' So 
also in the Sancroft ms. 

St. vii. line 4. ' Nuzzeld':= nestled or nourished. In quaint 
old Dr. Worship's Sermons, we have ' dew cruzzlc on his cheek' 
(p. 91). 

Lines 1 and 3, ' deaw'= ' dew.' This was the contemporary 
speUing, as it was long before in Sir John Davies, the Flet- 
chers and others in our FuUer Worthies' Library, s. v. 

Lines 5 and 6. 1646, 1670 and Sancroft ms. read 

' Much ratlior would it tremble heere 
.\.]d leave them both to bee thy teave." 

1648 is as om- text (1652). 

St. ix. A hasty reader may judge this stanza to have been 
displaced by the xith, but a closer examination reveals a new 
vein (so -to -say) of the thought. It is characteristic of Cra- 
shaw to give a first-sketch, and afterwards fill in other details 
to complete the scene or portraiture. 

St. xi. Restored from 1646. 

St.xii. line 1. 1646, 1648 and 1670 read 'There is.' 
Line 4, ' med'cinable teares.' So Shakespe.^re (nearly) : 
' their medicinal gum' (Othello, v. 2). 

St. xiii. line 2. 1646 and 1670 unhappily misprint 'case;' 
and TuRNBULL passed the deplorable blunder and perpetuated it. 

Line 5. Our text (1652) misprints ' draw' for ' deaw"= dew, 
as before. 

Line 6. 1646 and 1670 read ' May balsame.' 

St. xiv. line 3. 1646 and 1670 read 

■ Mifrht he flow from thee.' 


TuitNBULL misses the rhythmical play iu the first and second 
' though,' and punctuates the second so as to read with next 
line. I make a full stop as in the Sancroft ms. 
Line 4, ih. read 

' Content and qtiict would he goe." 

So the Bancroft ms. 
Line 5, ib. read 

' Richer far due,* he esteeme.' 

So the Sancroft ms. 

St. XV. lines 5 and 6, ib. read 

' No April e're lent softer showTes, 
Nor May returned fairer flowers.' 

' Faithful' looks deeper : but the Sancroft ms. agi'ees with 'H> 
and '70. 

St. xvii. line 2, in 1648 misreads 

' With loves and tears, and smils disputing.' 
Turnbull, without the slicrhtest authority, seeing not even in 
1670 are the readings found, has thus printed lines 2 and 4, 
' With loves, of tears u-ith smiles disporting' . . . ' Each other 
kissing and comforting' ! ! 

St. xviii. line 2 in 1648 mis-reads 

' Friends with the balsome fires that fill thee." 
The ' balsome' is an evident misprint, but ' thee' is preferable 
to ' fill you' of our text (1652), and hence I have adopted it. 
Line 3 in 1648 reads 

' Cause great flames agree.' 

St. xix. line 3, 1648, reads ' that' for ' the.' 

Line 4, ib. ' those' for ' these.' 

Line 6. cf. Revelations xiv. 5, 'These are they which follow 
the Lamb whithersoever He goeth.' 

St. xxi. line 6. ' wipe with gold,' refers to Mary Magdalene's 
golden tresses, as also in st. xxii. 'a voluntary mint.' 

Line 4. ' proiioke'=challenge. 

St. xxii. line 2. Curiously enough, 1648 edition leaves a 
blank where we read ' calls "f as iu our text (1652). Turnbull 
prints ' call'st,' but that makes nonsense. It is caUs 't as=calls 
it. So too the Sancroft ms. Probably the copy for 1648 was 


St. xxiv. line 1. KUO auil 1070 read 

■ Does the Night arise ?' 
Line 2. Our text (1652) misprints ' staiTes' for ' teares' of 
1646, 1648 and 1670. 

Line 3. 1646 and 1670 read 

• Docs Night loose her ej"es ?' 
The Sasjcboft ms. reads line 139 'Does the Night arise?' and 
line 141, ' Does Niget loose her eyes V 
St. xsv. line 2. 1646 and 1670 read 

' Tliy teares' just cadence still keeps time.' 

So the Sancroft ms. 

Line 3. Our text (16521 misprints ' paire' tor 'praire.' 
' Sweet-breath'd" should probably be pronounced as tlie adjectival 
of the substantive, not as the participle of the verb. 

Line 6. 1646, 1648 and 1670 read ' doth' for ' does.' 

St. xxvi. lines 1 and 2. 1646 and 1670 read 

' Thus d<>i»t thou melt tlie yeare 
Into a weepinp motion. 
Each minute waitcth heere." 

So the Sascroft ms. 

St. xxvii. Restored from 1646 edition. The Sancroft >is. 
in line 168 miswrites ' teares.' 

St. xxviii. line 5. reads in 1646 and 1670 

' Others by dayes, by monthcs, by yearcs.' 
So also the Sancroft ms., wherein this st. follows our st. xv. 

St. xxix. line 3. Our text (1652) misprints ' fires' for ' tii'e' 
of 1648. 

St. XXX. hue 1. Our text (1652) misprints ' Say the bright 
brothers.' 1646 and 1670 read ' Say watry Brothers.' So Sax- 
CKOFTMS. 1648 gives 'ye," which I have adopted. The misprint 
of ' the' in 1652 originated doubtless in the printer's reading 
' y'=,' the usual mode of wilting ' the.' 

Line 2. 1646 and 1670 read 

' Yee simpering . . . .' 

So the Sancroft ms. 

Line 3, ib. ' fertile' for ' fruitful!.' 

Line 4, ib. ' ^Miat hath our world that can entice.' So the 
Sancroft ms. 

VOL. I. 1) 


Lines 5 and 6, ib. 

' what is't can borrow 
Yon from licr eyes, swolne »-onibes of sorrow.' 

So the Sancroft ms. 

St. XXXI. line 2. 1640 and 1670 read 

' whither ? for the sluttish Earth :' 
and I accept ' Bluttisli' for ' sordid,' which is also confinned by 
Sancroft ms. 

Line 4, ib. ' your' for ' their;' and as this is also the read- 
ing of 1648 and Sancroft ms., I have accepted it. 
Line 5. 1646 and 1670 omit ' Sweet.' 
Line 6, ib. read ' yee' for ' you.' 

St. xxxii. and xxxiii. In 1646 and 1670 these two stanzas 
are thrown into one, viz. 23 (there), which consists of the first 
four lines of xxxii. and the two closing lines of xxxiii. as fol- 

' No such thing ; we goe to meet 
A worthier object, our Lord s feet.' 

In the Sancroft ms. also, and reads as last line 'A worthy ob- 
ject, our Lord Jesus feet.' On the closing lines of st. xxxii. cf. 
Sospetto d'Herode, st. xlviii. 

I have not thought it needful, either in these Notes or here- 
after, to record the somewhat arbitrary variations of mere 
orthogi'aphv in the different editions, as ' haUe" for ' hail,' ' syl- 
ner" for ' silver," ' hee' for ' he,' and the like. But I trust it will 
be found that no different wording has escaped record. G. 



D O L O R V M. 


A patheticalt Descant vjwn the deuout I'laiiixont) of 
Stabat Mater Dolorosa.^ 

In shade of Death's sad tree 

Stood doleful! shee. 
Ah she ! now by none other 
Name to he known, alas, but Sorrow's Mother. 

Before her eyes, 5 

Her's, and the whole World's ioyes, 
Hanging all torn she sees ; and in His woes 
And paines, her jiangs and throes : 
Each wound of His, from euery part, 
All, more at home in her one heart. 10 

1 Appeared originally in ' Steps' of 1648 (pp. 7-9) : reprinted in 
1652 and 1670. As before, our text is that of 1652 (pp. 00-6I); but 
see Notes and Illustrations at close. The illustration, eni,'raved by 
Mesauer, is reproduced in our illustrated quarto edition. G. 




What kind of marble, than, 

Is that cold man 

AVho can look on and see, 
Nor keep such noble sorrowes company 1 

Sure eu'en from you 

(l\Iy flints) some drops are due, 
To see so many unkind swords contest 

So fast for one soft brest : 
While with a faithfull, mutuall floud, 
Her eyes bleed teares, His wounds weep blood. 


O costly intercourse 

Of deaths, and worse — 

Diuided loues. WhHe Son and mother 
Discourse alternate wounds to one another, 

Quick deaths that grow 

And gather, as they come and goe : 
His nailes write swords in her, which soon her heart 

Payes back, with more then their own smart. 
Her swords, stUl growing with His pain, 
Turn spearcs, and straight come home again. 3° 


She sees her Son. her God, 
Bow with a load 



Of borrow'tl sins ; ami swimmc 
In woes that were not made for Him. 

Ah ! hard command ^e 

Of lone ! Here must she stand, 
Charg'd to look on, and with a stedfast ey 

See her life dy : 
Leaning her only so much breath 
As serues to keep aliue her deutli. 40 


O mother turtle-done ! 

Soft sourse of loue ! 

That these dry lidds might borrow 
Somthing from thy full seas of son-ow ! 

in that brest . r 

Of thine (the noblest nest 
Loth of Loue's fires and flouds) might I recline 

This hard, cold heart of mine ! 
The chill lump would relent, and proue 
Soft subject for the seige of Loue. 50 


O teach those wounds to bleed 
In me ; me, so to read 
This book of loues, thus -writ 
In lines of death, my life may coppy it 

With loj^all cares. c c 

let me, here, claim shares ! 


Till drunk of the dear wounds, 1 l)e 
A lost thing to tlie world, as it to me. 

faithful! freind 105 

Of mo and of my end ! 
l''( lid vp my life in loue ; and lay't beneath 

My dear Lord's vitall death. 
Lo, heart, thy hope's whole plea ! her pretious brealli 
Pour'd out in prayrs for thee; thy Lord's in deatli. i 10 


St. i. line 10. In 1648 the reading is 

' Are more at home in her Ownc heart.' 
In 1670 ' All, more at home in her own heart.' I think ' all' 
and ' one' of our text (165'2) preferable. There is a world of 
jiathos in the latter. Cf. st. ii. line 8. 

St. ii. line 1. On the change of orthogi-aphy for rhyme, see 
our Phineas Fletchek, vol. ii. 206 ; and our Lord Brooke, 
Vaughan, &c. &c., show ' then' and ' than' used as in Crashaw. 

St. vi. line 3. In 1648 the reading is ' love ;' 1670 as our 
text (1652). The plural includes the twofold love of Son and 

Line 7, ib. ' to' for ' in.' 

Line 9, ib. 'Oh give' at commencement. 1670, 'to' for 
' too.' 

St. vii. and viii. These two stanzas do not appear in 1648 
edition, but appear in 1670. 

St. vii. line 4. By ' tree' the Cross is meant. Cf. st. i. Line 1. 

St. ix. line 1. 1648 edition supplies the two words required 
by the measure of the other stanzas, ' in sins.' They are dropped 
inadvertently in 1652 and. 1670. Turnlmll failed as usual to 
detect the omission. 

Line 4. 1648 spells ' Divident." 


Lines ") and (5. I have accepted correction of oui'text (1G52) 
from 1()-18 eilitiou, iu line (J, of 'If for ' Is,' which is also the 
reading of 1G70. 1(548 substitutes 'just' for 'soft;' but 1()70 
does not adopt it, nor can I. 

St. X. line 1. I(i48 reads 'Lend, lend some reliefc.' 
Line 9 reads ' To studie thee so.' 
St. xi. line 3, ib. reads ' thy' for ' the.' 
Line 8, ib. reads ' Thy deare lost vitall death.' 
Line 10. I have adopted from 1G48 ' in thy Lord's death' 
for ' thy lord's in death' of our text (1()5'2). 

Turnbull has some sad misprints in this poem: e.g. st. ii. 
line 4, ' sorrow's' for ' sorrows ;' st. iii. line '2, ' death's' for 
• deaths ;' st. \\. line 9, ' Me to' for ' Me, too ;' st. x. line '2, ' in' 
for ' an,' and line 3, ' a' mis-inserted before ' sad.' Except in 
the ' Me to' of st. ^^., he had not even the poor excuse of fol- 
lowing; the text of 1670. G. 


What bright-soft thing is tliis, 

Sweet Marj', thy faire eyes' expence ? 

A moist si^ai'ke it is, 
A watry diamond ; from whence 

The very tearme, I think, was found, 5 

The water of a diamond. 

' Appeared oripnally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. G-7) : reprinted in 
1048 (pp. 9-11) and 1()70 editions. As it does not appear in 'Carmen 
Deo Nostro,' itc. (lG.i2), our text follows that of IGIS; but see Xotos 
and Illustrations at close of the pnoiu. G. 

vol,. 1. 1; 



O, 'tis not a teare : 

'Tis a star about to dropp 

From thine eye, its spheare ; 

The sun will stoope and take it up : i o 

Proud will his sister be, to weare 
This thine eyes' iewell in her eare. 

(), 'tis a teare. 
Too true a teare ; for no sad eyne. 

How sad so 'ere, 15 

Raine so true a teare, as thine ; 
Each drop leaving a place so deare, 
Weeps for it self; is its owne teare. 


Such a pearle as this is, 

Slipt from Aurora's dewy brest— 20 

The rose-bud's sweet lipp kisses ; 

And such the rose it self that's vext 
AVith ungentle flames, does shed. 
Sweating in a too warm bed. 


Such the maiden gem, 25 

l?y the pTtrpling vine put on. 

Peeps from her parent stem, 
And blushes on the bridegroom sun ; 


The watry blossonie of thy eyne 

Kipe, will make the richer wine. 30 


Faire drop, wliy quak'st thou so 1 
'Cause thou streight must lay thy head 

In the dust ? 0, no ! 
The dust shall never be thy bed : 

A pillow for thee will I bring, 35 

Stuft mth downe of angel's wing. 


Thus carried up on high 

(For to Heaven thou must goe), 
Sweetly shalt thou lye, 

And in soft slumbers bath thy woe, 40 

Till the singing orbes awake thee, 
And one of their bright chorus make thee. 


There thy selfe shalt bee 

An eye, but not a weeping one ; 

Yet I doubt of thee, 45 

^\'Tiether th' liad'st rather there have shone 
An eye of heaven ; or still shine here, 
In the heaven of Marie's eye, a teare. 

Tllk; TEA HE. 


It is to be re-noted that st. v. is identical in all save ' wati-j-' 
for ' bridegi-oom' with st. xi. of ' The Weeper' as given in text 
of 1652, and that st. iv. has two lines from st. xxix. of the same 
poem. Neither of these stanzas appear in ' The Weeper' of 
Ki-IG. As stated in relative foot-note, I have withdrawn the 
former from ' The Weeper.' We may be sure it was inadvert- 
ently inserted in 1652, seeing that the very next stanza closes 
with the same word ' wine' as in it : a fault which our Poet 
never could have passed. It is to be noticed too that ' The 
Teare' did not appear in the edition of 1652. By transferring 
the stanza to ' The Teare' as in 1646, 1648 and 1670 editions, 
a blemish is removed from ' The Weeper,' while in ' The Teare' 
it is a vivid addition. The ' such' of line 1 Unks it naturally 
on to st. iv. with its ' such.' 

Our text follows that of 1648 except in st. v. line 4, where 
I adopt the reading of 1652 in ' The Weeper" (there st. xi.) of 
' bridegroom' (misprinted ' bridegi'ooms') for ' watry,' and that 
I correct in st. ^ii. line 6, the misprint ' the' for ' thee,'— ;the 
latter being found in 1646 and 1670. With reference to st. v. 
again, in line 5 in ' The Weeper' of 1648 the reading is ' bal- 
some' for 'blossom.' The 'ripe' of line 6 settles (I think) that 
' blossom' is the right word, as the ripe blossom is:=the gi'ape, 
to the rich lucent-white di'ops of which the Weeper's tears are 
likened. ' Balsome' doesn't make wine. I have adopted from 
st. xi. of ' The Weeper' of 1652 the reading ' the purpling vine' 
for ' the wanton Spring' of 1646, 1648 and 1670. The Saxcroft 
MS. in st. i. line 2, reads ' expends' for ' expence ;' st, iv. line 4, 
' that's' for ' when ;' st. v. line 4, ' manly sunne' for ' bride- 
gi'oome,' and line 5, ' thine' for ' thy ;' st. viii. line 6, ' I' th' ' 
for ' In th'.' G. 

TradiJit Seviebpfum pr» ryihis ptlatucn^tn, et 
}ioJhaTn. Deo in odortm SuamtatLs ■ •'•l Epht.f 


Ti-adiilit seiiictipsuiii pro nobis oblatioiiom et lio.^tiuiii Deo in oiloivni 
suauitatis. Ail Epli>!. v. 2. 


For the Hovh of ^Iatines. 

The VerskJe. 
Lord, by Thy sweet and sailing sign ! 

Tlie Responsorij. 
Defend iis from our foes and Thine. 
V. Thou shalt open my lippes, O Lord. 
■R. And my mouth shall shew forth Thy jjrayse. 
V. O God, make speed to saue me. 5 

R. Lord, make hast to help me. 

1 jNIost of ' The Oflice of the Holy Crosse' appe<irt'd in the ' Steps' 
of 1648, but in a fragmentary' form. First came a piece ' Upon our 
B. Saviour's Passion,' which incUuled all the Hymns. Then ' the 
Antiphona,' which was the last so called here; then 'the Kecom- 
ntendation of the precedent Hymn;' then 'a Prayer;' and lastly, 
"Christ's Victory,' including three other of the verses, called 'the 
Antiphona.' Our text is from 'Carmen Deo Nostro' &c. of 1652, as 
before (pp. 31-18) — the engraving in which is reproduced in our il- 
lustrated quarto edition. See Notes and Illustrations at close of 
this composition. G. 


Glory be to the Father, 

and to the Son, 

and to the H[oly] Ghost. 
As it was in the beginning, is now, and euer i o 

shall be, world without end. Amen. 

The Hymn. 

The wakefull Matines hast to sing 
The unknown sorrows of our King : 
The Father's Word and Wisdom, made 
Man for man, by man's betraid ; 1 5 

The World's price sett to sale, and by the bold 
Merchants of Death and Sin, is bought and sold : 
Of His best freinds (yea of Himself) forsaken ; 
By His worst foes (because He would) beseig'd and 

TJie Antijjhonu. 
All hail, fair tree, 20 

Whose fruit Ave be ! 
AVhat song shall raise 
Thy seemly praise, 
Who broughtst to light 
Life out of death, Day out of >.'ight ! 25 

The Verskle. 
Lo, we adore Thee, 
Dread Lamb ! and bow thus low before Thee : 


Tlie lirspnntiur. 
'Cause, by the couenant of Thy crosse, 
Thou hast sau'd at once the whole World's losse. 

The Prayer. 
Lord lESV-CnniST, Son of tlie liuing God ! 30 
interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretions death, 
Thy crosse and passion, betwixt my soul and Thy 
iudgment, now and in the hour of my dcatli. And 
vouchsafe to graunt vnto me Thy grace and mercy ; 
vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest ; to Thy 3 5 
Cliurch, peace and concord; to vs sinners, life and 
glory euerlasting. Who liuest and reignest with 
the Father, in the vnity of the Holy Ghost, one 
God, world without end. Amen. 

For THE Hour of Prime. 

T/ie Verslcle. 
Lord, by Thy sweet and sauing sign ! 40 

The Responsor. 
Defend vs from our foes and Thine. 
V. Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord. 
R. And my mouth shall shew forth Thy ])raiso. 
V. O God, make speed to save me. 
R. O Lord, make hast to heliJ me. 45 

r. (ilory be to, (fee. 
R, As it was in the, <tc. 

32 the office of the holy crosse. 

The Hymn. 

The early Prime blushes to say 

She could not rise so soon, as they 

Call VI Pilat vp ; to try if he 50 

Could lend them anj- cruelty. 

Their hands with lashes arm'd, their toungs 
with lyes 

And loathsom spittle, blott those beauteous eyes. 

The blissfull springs of ioy ; from whose all-chear- 
ing ray 

The fair starrs fill their wakefull fires, the sun him- 
self drinks day. 55 

The Ant'tphova. 

Victorious sign 

That noAv dost shine, 

Transcrib'd aboue 
Into the land of light and lone ; 

let vs twine 60 

Our rootes with thine, 

That we may rise 
Vpon thy wings, and reach the skyes. 

The Verside. 
Lo, we adore Thee, 
Dread Lamb ! and fall 65 

Thus low before Thee. 

TIIK OKl'irK OK TllK Ilni.Y t'UOSSK. .■?."? 

The Re^onsor. 
'Cause by the coiienant of Thy crosse 
Thou hast sau'd at once the whole World's losse. 

The Praijer. 
Lord Iesv-Christ, Son of the lining God ! 
interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretious death, 70 
Thy crosse and passion, betwixt my soul and Thy 
iudgment, now and in the hour of my death. And 
vouchsafe to graunt vnto me Thy grace and mercy ; 
vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest ; to 
Thy Church, peace and concord ; to vs sinners, 75 
life and glory euerlasting. "Who liuest and reignest 
with the Father, in the vmty of the Holy Ghost, 
one God, world without end. Amen. 

The Third. 

The Versiclc. 
Lord, by Thy sweet and sauing sign. 

The Resjwnsor. 
Defend vs from our foes and Thine. 80 

V. Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord. 
E. And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise. 
V. O God, make speed to sq,ve me. 
B. Lord, make hast to help me. 
V. Glory be to, Arc. 85 

R. As it was in the, (tc. 

VOL. I. F 

.'u the office of the holy crosse. 

The Hymn. 

'I'lie third hour's deafen'd with the cry 
Of crucify Him, crucify. 
So goes the vote (nor ask them, why 1), 
Liue Barabbas ! and let God dy. 90 

But there is witt in wrath, and they will try 
A hail more cruell then their cnicify. 
For while in sport He weares a spitefuU crown 
The serious showres along His decent Face run 
sadly down. 

TJie Antiphona. 

Christ when He dy'd 95 

Deceiu'd the Crosse ; 

And on Death's side 

Threw all the losse. 
Tlie captiue World awak't and found 
The jOTSoners loose, the iaylor bound. 100 

Tlip. Versicle. 

Lo, we adore Thee, 
Dread Lamb, and fall 
Thus low before Thee. 

T?ic Resiwnsor. 

' by the couenant of Thy crosse 

Thou hast sau'd at m\oc the whole World's lo.«se. 105 


The Fraijcr. 
O Lord Iesv-Chbist, Son of the liuing God ! 
interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretious death. 
Thy crosse and passion, betwixt my soul and Thy 
iudgment, now and in the hour of my death. And 
vouchsafe to graunt vnto me Thy grace and mercy ; no 
vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest ; to 
Thy Church, peace and concord ; to vs sinners, 
life and glory everlasting. Who liuest and reignest 
with the Father, in the vnity of the Holy Ghost, 
one God, world without end. Amen. 115 

The SiXT. 

The Versicle. 

Lord, by Thy sweet and sauing sign ! 

The Responsor. 
Defend vs from our foes and Thine. 
V. Thou shult open my lips, O Lord. 
R. And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise. 
V. God, make speed to save me ! 120 

B. O Lord, make hast to help me ! 
V. Glory be to, &c. 
R. As it was in the, &c. 

The Hymn. 
Now is the noon of Sorrow's night : 
High in His patience, as their spite, T25 


Lo, the faint Lamb, with weary limb 

Beares that huge tree which must bear Hiiu ! 

That fatall plant, so great of fame 

For fruit of sorrow and of shame, 

Sliall swell with both, for Him, and mix 130 

AU woes into one crucifix. 

Is tortur'd thirst itselfe too sweet a cup 1 

Clall, and more bitter mocks, shall make it vp. 

Are nailes, blunt pens of superficial! smart ] 

Contempt and scorn can send sure wounds to 

search the inmost heart. 135 

The Antiphona. 

O deare and sweet dispute 
'Twixt Death's and Loue's farr different fmit ! 

Different as farr 
As antidotes and poysons are. 

By that first fatall tree 140 

Both life and liberty 

Were sold and slain ; 
By tliis tliey both look vp, and liuc again. 

The Veivir/r. 
Lo, we adore Thee, 
Dread Lamb ! and bow thus low before Thee. 145 

7'he Ilesjwnsor. 
'Cause by the couenant of Thy crosse, 
Tliou hast sau'd the AVorld from certain losse. 


The Prayer. 
Lord Iesv-Christ, Sou of the liuing God ! 
interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretious death. 
Thy crossc and passion, betwixt my soul and Tliy 150 
iudgment, now and in the hour of my death. And 
vouchsafe to grauut vnto me Thy grace and mercy; 
vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest ; to 
Thy Church, peace and concord; to vs sinners, 
life and glory euerlasting. Who liuest and reignest 1 5 5 
with the Father, in the vnity of the Holy Ghost, 
one God, world without end. Amen. 

The Ninth. 

The Verside. 
Lord, by Thy sweet and sailing sign, 

The Responsor. 
Defend vs from our foes and Thine. 
V. Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord. 160 

M. And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise. 
V. God, make speed to save me ! 
R. Lord, make hast to help me ! 
V. Glory be to, &c. 
R. -Is it was in the, &c. 165 

The Hymx. 
The ninth with awfuU horror hearkened to those groanes 
Which taught attention eii'n to rocks and stones. 


Hear, Father, Lear ! Thy Lamb (at last) coinplaines 
Uf some more painfull thing then all His paines. 
Then bowes His all-obedient head, and dyes 1 70 

His own lou's and oui- sins' great sacrifice. 
The sun saw that, and would haue seen no more ; 
The center shook : her vselesse veil th' inglorious 
Temple tore. 

Tlie Antiphona. 
strange, mysterious strife 
Of open Death and hidden Life ! 175 

"When on the crosse my King did bleed. 
Life seem'd to dy, Death dy'd indeed.^ 

The Verside. 
Lo, we adore Thee, 
Dread Lamb ! and fall 
Thus low before Tliee. 180 

The Responsor. 
'Cause by the couenant of Thy crosse 
Thou hast sau'd at once the whole "World's losse. 

The Prayer. 
O Lord lesv-Christ, Son of the Uuiug God I 
interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretious death, 

' More et vita duello 
Conflixero niirando : 
Dux vine mortuus. regiiat vivus. 

Latin St'juence 12th-13tli century: Viet. Pascli. G. 

THE ()ffi(;e of the holy crossr. :}!) 

Tliy crosse and passion, betwixt my soul and Thy 185 
indgment, now and in the hour of my deatli. And 
vouchsafe to graunt vnto me Thy grace and mercy; 
vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest; to 
Thy Church, peace and concord ; to vs sinners, 
life and glory euerlasting. AVlio liuest and reignest 1 90 
with the Father, in the vnity of the Holy Ghost, 
one God, world without end. Amen. 


The Verside. 

Lord, by Thy sweet and sauing sign ! 

Tlie ResjMiisor. 
Defend vs from our foes and Thine. 
V. Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord ! 195 

R. And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise. 
V. O God, make speed to save me ! 
R. Lord, make hast to help me ! 
V. Glory be to, &c. 

R. As it was in the, itc. 200 

The Hymn. 
But there were rocks would not relent at this : 
Lo, for their own hearts, they rend His ; 
Their deadly hate lines stiU, and hath 
A wild reserve of wanton wrath ; 
Superfluous spear ! But there's a heart stands by 205 
Will look no wounds be lost, no deaths shall dy. 


Gather now thy Greifs ripe fruit, great mother- 
maid ! 

Then sitt thee down, and sinj^ thine eu'nsong in 
the sad tree's shade. 

The Antiphoim. 

O sad, sweet tree ! 

WofuU and ioyfull we 210 

Both weep and sing in shade of thee. 
AVlion the dear nailes did lock 
And graft into thy gracious stock 

The hope, the health, 

The worth, tlie wealth 2 1 5 

Of all the ransom'd World, thou hadst the power 

(In that propitious hour) 

To poise each pretious limb, 
And prone how light the World was, when it 
weighd with Him. 

Wide maist thou spred 220 

Thine amies, and with thy bright and blissfull head 
O'relook aU Libanus. Thy lofty crown 
The King Himself is, thou His humble throne, 
Where yeilding and yet conquering He 
Prou'd a new path of patient netory : 225 

When wondring Death by death was slain, 
And our Captiuity His captiue ta'ne. 


77/'' Vor<irli\ 
Lo, •\ve ailoic Tlicc, 
Dreatl Lamu! ami bow thus low before Thee. 

Tito, Re--i2Wugor. 
'Cause by the couenant of Thy crosse 230 

Tlioii hast sau'd the World from certain lossc. 

Tlie Prayer. 
() Lord losv-Christ, Son of the lining, Szc. 


Thn. Verside. 
Lord, by Thy s\^eet and sauing sign ! 

T/tr Rpsponsor. 
Defend vs from our foes and Thine. 
V. Thou shalt open my lips, Lord ! 235 

R. jVnd my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise. 
r. O God, make speed to save me ! 
R. Lord, make hast to help n^e ! 
V. Glory be to, <tc. 
/?. As it was in the. Sec. 240 

The Hymn. 
The Gomplin hour comes last, to call 
Vs to our own lives' lunorall. 

VOL. 1. <i 


All I yet Hope takes head, 
And Hues in Him that here lyes dead. 
Kun, Mary, run ! Hiiii^' hither all Ihc 245 

Arabia, for thy royall pliu'iiix' ; 
Pour on thy noblest sweet.s, which, when thej' touch 
This sweeter l>ody, shall indeed be such. 
]]ut must Thy bed, Lord, be a borrow'd graue 
Who lend'st to all things all the life they haue. 250 
( ) rather vse this heart, thus farr a fitter stone, 
'Cause, though a hard and cold one, yet it is Thine 
own. Amen. 

Thr Antlphona. 

U saue vs then, 

I\[crcyfull King of men ! 

Since Thou wouldst needs be thus 255 

A Saviour, and at such a rate, for vs ; 

Saue vs, O saue vs, Lord. 
We now will own no shorter wish, nor name a nar- 
rower word ; 

Thy blood bids vs be bold, 

Thy wounds giue vs fair hold, 260 

Thy sorrows chide our shame : 
Thy crosse, Thy nature, and Thy name- 

Aduance our claim, 

And cry with one accord 

Saue them, saue them, Lord I 265 

ji'xIV'.T; 7.HT ectksi ^SJPJ.CT'MVN'DCINGlLitO. 

'■ 7^^ 

SV^id puUhfr : at fuffw Ox/ft^n ni^ ti^it: 
Sum nahAs n^nia^T" 'utM' ^tyhtaah. 
Sum Mu^ ; a ffw nema ^ui^^am f^bdaf. 
Ei- cjmch jv(?ttm nfrrur tru- tsmm hmet-. 

ILt/um yta.atfer rnr ^i^pi/tpu/^t^ offthutat.'' 
Sum xtrrifas : ^uarv tntln nm cfindunr.'* 
Sum vitt-v^rum varus ^ nte peti^. 
Sum xrera htx \n4frc ttw yt^ma ctipit: 
Sum tfiiflfu-^rr: nuBtts I'l^ff.* in mc ^aSarnf-. 
Tf^ si fxt'is. nan td intM tmpitn. H^uf : 


Tin: 1 ; IX'UM M ICN DATION. ' 

These lloiu-e!>, and tliat wliieli houers o're my eiul, 
Into Thy hands and liart, Lord, I cuniniend. 

I'ake botli to Thine account, that I and mine 
111 that hour, aiul in these, may be all Thine. 

That as I dedicate my deuoutest breath 270 

To make a kind of life for my Lord's death, 

80 from His lining and life-giuing death, 

^ly dying life may draw a new an<l neuer fleeting linalh. 


lu the ori<rinal edition of this composition, as supra (lt)48), 
it is cutitlcd simply ' Vpou our B [lessee!] Saviour's Passion.' 
What in our text (lt)5'2) constitute the Hymns, were originally 
numbered as seven stanzas. A few various readings from 1048 
will be found below. Oui- text is given in full in 1670 edition, 
but not veiy accui-atelj-. 

Various readiiif/s 0/ tlic Hymns in 16iB ' Stcjys/ 

I. Line 1. ' The wakeful! dawning bast's to sing.' 

,, 2. The allusion is to the petition in the old Litanies, 
' By all Thine unknown sorrows, good Lord, deliver us.' 

,, 8. ' betraj-'d' for ' beseigd :' the former perhaps su- 

II. ,. 1. ' The early Morne.' 
.. "2. • It' for ' she.' 

HI. ,, 5. ' ther's' for ' there is.' 

IV. ,, 6. ' The fruit' instead of ' for' — a misprint. ' 

v. ,, 0. ' our gi-eat sins' sacrifice.' 

vii. ,, 1. ' The Nightening houre' — a curious coinage. 

* The engraving of our text (1GJ2) here, is reproduced in our il- 
lustrated ipiarto edition. Fi>r the Latin ' Kxpnsliilatio' belonging 
thereto, sec our vol. ii. (i. 


lu the ' Prayer,' ' uuto all quick aud dt-ad' is di-opped, and 
readH ' the,' uot ' Thy,' Chuich. In line 55 TurnbuU reads 
' weakful,' aud, line 2i;J, 'heed' for 'head,'— two of a number 
of provoking blunders in his text. G. 



LouK vp, lauguisting soul ! Lo, where the fail i 
Badge of thy faith calls back thy care, 

Aud biddes thee ne're forget 

Thy life is one long debt 
Of lone, to Him, \Yho on this painfull tree 5 

Paid back the flesh He took for thee. 

Lc), how the streauies of life, from that full nest 
Uf loues, Thy Lord's too liberall brest, 
Flow in an amorous floud 
Of water wedding blood. i o 

With these He wash't thy stain, transferr'd thy .smart, 
And took it home to His own heart. 

But though great Love, greedy of such sad gain, 
"S'^surpt the portion of thy pain, 

' Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1G48 (pp. 30-1): reprinted in 
1652 (pp. 4'.i-51) and ItlTO (pp. 174-6). Onr text is that of 165-.', as 
before. See Notes and Illustrations at close of the poem. G. 


Ami iVoiii llu' luiilcs lUid sjicar 15 

Tuni'il tlic steel pt>int of tear : 

Their vse is chaiig\l,uot lost; and now they iiioue 

Not stiugs of wrath, but wouiuls of loiic. 


Tall tree of life ! thy IriUh makes good 
What was till now iie're understood, 20 

Though tlie pro2)hetick king 
Struck lowd his faithfull string : 
It was thy wood he meant should make tlie throne 
For a more than Salomon. 

Large throne of Loue ! royally spred 2 5 

^V'ith purple of too rich a red : 

Thy crime is too much duty ; 

Thy burthen, too much beauty ; 
(Uorious or greiuous more? thus to make good 
Thy costly excellence with thy King's own bluod. 30 


Euen ballance of both worlds ! our world of sin, 
And that of grace, Heaun-way'd in Him : 

A's with our price thou weighed'st ; 
Our price for vs thou payed'st. 
Soon as the right-hand scale reioyc't to proue 35 
How much Death weij^h'd more light then Loue. 



Hail, our alone Lope ! let thy fair head shoot 
Aloft, and fill the nations with thy noble fruit : 

The while our hearts and we 

Thus graft our selues on thee, 40 

(Irow thou and they. And be thy fair 
'i"he sinner's pardon and the iust man's peace. 

Line, O for eucr liue and reign 
'Jlie Lamb Whom Ili.s own loue Iiath .slain ! 
And let Thy lost sheep liue to inherit 45 

That kingdom which this Crosse did merit. Amen. 


These variations &c. as between 1048 and 1G52, deserve 
record : 

St. i. line 1. ' Languishing," which is the reading in 1048. 

lb. line 2. Here, and in v. line 1, I have added ' e' to 
' badg' and ' larg' respectively from 1048. 

St. vi. line 2. Our text (1652) corrects a manifest blunder 
of 1648, which reads ' wag'd' for ' way"d'= weighed. In 1048, 
lines 3-4 read , ^^^-^^ ^^.j^,^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^.^^^ weighai. 

Both witli one price were paiil.' 

St. vii. appeared for the first time in oiu- text (1652). In 
the closing four lines, line 4, 1648, reads noticeably 
■ Tliat Kingdome which Thy blessed death did merit." 

The allusion in st. iv. is to the old reading of Psalm xcvi. 
1(1 : ' Tell it among the heathen that the Lord reigueth from 
Ihf tree.' The reference to Solomon points to the medi;eval 
mystical interpretutions of Canticles iii. 9-10. 

I place ' Vexilla Regis' immediately after the ' OlKce of tlie 
Holy Crosse,' as really belonging to it, and not to be separated 
as in 1048. G. 



• Noithor ilui-st any niiiii from tliat iliiy nske Him any more qnostions.' 

.SV. Mattlieir xxii. 

^^ID'sT all the darke and knotty snares, 
lUack wit or malico can, or dares, 
Thy glorious wisedoiae breaks the nets, 
And treds with uncontrouled steps ; 
Thy quell'd foes are not onely now 
Thy triumplis, but Thy trophies too : 
They botli at once Thy conquests bee, 
And Thy conquests' memorie. 
Stony amazement makes them stand 
Wayting on Thy victorious hand. 
Like statues fixod to the i'ame 
Of Thy renoune, and their own shame, 
As if they onely meant to breath 
To be the life of their own death. 
'Twas time to hold their peace, when they 
Had ne're another word to say ; 


1 Originally appeared in -Steps' of lC-4() (p. 1.^): reprinfeil 
in editions 1G48 (pp. 21-2),.iiid 1670 (p. IT)). Onr text is that of 
liUS: but there are only slight ortboi^raphio differences in the 
others. G. 



Yet is their silence unto Thee, 
'ihe full sound of Thy victorie ; 
Their silence speaks aloud, and is 
Thy well pronounc'd panegyris. 
"While they speak nothing, they speak all 
Their share, in Thy menioriall. 
While they speake notJiing, they proclame 
Thee, with the shrillest trump of Fame. 
To hold their peace is all the wayes 
These wTetches have to speak Thy praise. 


1 . To Thee these first-fruits of My growing death i 
(For what else is My life ?), lo ! I bequeath : 

2. Tast this, and as Thou lik'st this lesser flood 
Expect a sea : My heart shall make it good. 

1 Appeared originally in the -Steps' of 1646 (p. 21): was re- 
printed in 1648 (p. 29) and 1670 (p. 22). Our text is that of 1648, 
but the others are the same except in the usual changes of ortho- 
graphy. The Sancroft ms. in line 7 reads 'Then shall He drink :' 
line 9, 'My paines are in their nonage: my young feares;' line in 
1 have adopted, instead of 'Are yet both in their hopes, not come to 
yeares.' which isn't English; line 12, 'are tender:' line 14. 'a to- 
wardnesse.' I have arranged these poems in numbered couplets as 
in the SAXf liOiT ms. I insert -d," dropped by misprint in 1648, but 
f.mnd in 1646 (line l:?). (i. 


3. Thy wrath tliat wades here now, v'ra long shall 

swim, 5 

The fioodgato shall be sot wide ope for Him. 

4. Then let Him drinke, and drinke, and doe His 

To drowne the wantonnesse of His wild thirst. 

5. Now's but the nonage of IMy paincs, My feares 
Are yett but hopes, weake as my infant yeares. i o 

G. The day of j\Iy darke ^yoe is yet but morne, 
^My teares but tender, and !My death new-borne. 

7. Yet may these unfledg'd griefes give fate some 

These cradle-torments have their towardnesse. 

8. These purple buds of blooming death may bee, 1 5 
Erst the full stature of a fatall tree. 

9. And till My riper woes to age are come, 
This knife may be the speare's praeludium. 

Vt)L. I. 

(»x THE worxns or ouk crucified 


(), THESE wakefull wounds of Tliine ! i 

Are they niouthes ? or are they eyes ? 

Be they niouthes, or be they eyne, 

Each hleeding part some one supplies. 

Lo ! a mouth ! whose fuU-bloom'd lips 5 

At too dear a rate are roses : 
Lo ! a blood-shot eye ! that weeps, 

And many a cruell teare discloses. 

O, thou that on this foot hast laid 

INIany a kisse, and many a teare ; i o 

Now thou shalt have all repaid, 

What soe're thy charges were. 

This foot hath got a month and lips 

To pay the sweet summe of thy kisses ; 

To pay thy teares, an eye that weeps, 1 5 

Instead of teares, such gems as this is. 

' Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 21, 22) : was re- 
printed in editions of 1648 (pp. 29, 30) and 1670 (pp. 22, 23). Our 
text is that of 1648 ; but all agree save in usual orthographic slight 
changes. In 1646 stanza ii. line 2 spells 'too' as' 'two.' The Sax- 
croft MS. varies only, as usual, in the orthography. G. 


The (.liHerence onoly this appcares, 

(Nor can the change offend) 
The debt is paid in ruby-tcaros 

Which thou in pearles did'st lend. 20 



IiEsu, no more ! It is full tide : 
From Thy head and from Thy feet, 
From Thy hands and from Thy side 
All the purple riuers meet. 

What need Thy fair head bear a part 
In showres, as if Thine eyes had none ? 
What need they help to drown Thy heart, 
Tliat stiiues in torrents of it's own? 

Water'd by the showres they bring, 
The thornes that Thy blest browe encloses 
(A cruell and a costly spring) 
(!)onceiuc proud hopes of proving roses. 

-■ Appeared originally in tbe ' Steps' of 1046 (pp. 23, 24) : was re- 
printed in eilitions of 1648 (pp. 32, 33), 1652 (pp. 61-63) and 1670 
(pp. 24, 25). Our text is that of 1652, as before, Init with an entire 
stanza from 1646 overlooked. See Notes and Illustrations at close of 
the poem. (j. 



Tliy restlesse feet now caiiuot goe 
For vs and our eternall good, 
As tliey were euer wont. "What though 1 
They swimme, alas ! in theii- own floud. 


Thy hand to giue Thou canst not lift ; 
Yet will Thy hand still giuing be. 
It giues, but itself s the gift : 
It giues though bound ; though bound 'tis free. 


But O Thy side, Thy deep-digg'd side ! 
That hath a double I^ilus going : 
jS^or euer was the Pharian tide 
Half so fruitfuU, half so flowing. 


No hair so small, but payes his riuer 
To this Eed Sea of Thy blood ; 
Their little channells can deliuer 
Somthing to the generall floud. 


But while I speak, wliither are run 
All the riuers nam'd before f 
I counted wrong : there is but one ; 
But O that one is one all ore. 




Rain-swola riuers may rise proud, 
Bent all to drown and overllow ; 
But when indeed all's ouerliow'd, 
They tliemselues are drowned too. 


This Thy blood's deluge (a dire chance, 

Dear Lord, to Thee) to vs is found 

A deluge of deliuerance ; 

A deluge least we should be drown'd. led 

N'ere wast Thou in a sense so sadly true. 
The well of lining waters, Lord, till now. 


The title in 1646 is ' On the bleeding wounds of our crucified 
Lord :' in 1648 has ' body' for ' wounds :' in 1670 as 1646. I 
record these variations, ttc. : 

St. i. lines 2 and 3, in 1646 and 1670 read 

' From Tliy hamis and from Tliy feet, 
From Tliy head and from Thy side.' 

So the S.VNXHOFT ms. 

St. ii. In 1G46 and 1670 this stanza is the 5th, and in line "2 
has ' teares' for ' showi'es.' 

St. iii. This stanza, by some strange oversight, is wholly 
di'opped in 1652. St. ui. not in Sancroft jis., and our st. ii. is 
the last. On one of the fly-leaves of the copy of 1646 edition 
in Trinity College, Cambridge, is the following contemporary 
MS. epigram, which embodies the sentiment of the stanza : 
' In caput Xti spinis coroiiatum. 
Cemo Caput si Cliriste tuuni mihi vertitur omne 
In spinis ilhul, quod fuit ante rosa.' 

Turnbull gives the stanza, but misplaces it after our st. vi., 
overlooking that our st. ii. is in 1646 edition st. v. 


St. iv. line 1 : in 1(540 and 1670 ' they' for ' now.' 

Line 3, ib. ' as thej' are wont' — evident inadvertence, as 
' ever' is required by the measure. 

Line 4, ib. ' blood' for ' floud :' so also in 1648. 

St. V. line 1, ib. ' hand' for ' hands :' ' hand' in 1648, and in 
Saxcroft MS. : adopted. Line 4, ' dropps' in Sancroft ms. 
for ' gives.' 

St. vi. line 3. Our text (1652) prints ' pharian,' the Paris 
printer spelling (and mis-spelling) without comprehending the 
reference to Pharaoh. 

St. vii. line 1, in 164G and 1670 ' not a haii-e but . . . .' 

St. ix. line 3, in 1648 a capital in ' All's.' G. 

Ecu V ams AnotUfu] 



In Tnitate Devs Est 
Xumisma Vrbaiii (i. 

I SING the name wliich none can say i 

But touch't with an interiour ray : 

The name of our new peace ; onr good : 

Oiu" blisse : and supernaturall blood : 

The name of all our lines and loues. 5 

Hearken, and help, ye holy doues ! 

The high-born brood of Day ; you bright 

Candidates of blissefull light. 

The heirs elect of Loue, whose names belong 

Vnto the euerlasting life of song ; i o 

All ye wise sovles, who in the wealthy brest 

Of this vnbounded name, build your warm nest. 

1 Appeared originally in "Steps' of 1648 (pp. 33-40); was re- 
printed in 1652 (pp. 1-9) and 1670 (pp. 146-153). Our text is that 
of lt).)2, as before, and its engraving here is reproduced in our il- 
lustrated 4to edition. Sec Xotes and Illustrations at close of the 
poem. G. 


Awake, my glory, Sovl (if such thou be. 
And that fair word at all referr to thee), 

Awake and sing, 15 

And he all wing ; 
Bring hither thy whole self ; and let me see 
AVhat of thy parent Ileavn yet speakes in thee. 

thou art poore 

Of noble powres, I see, 20 

And full of nothing else but empty me : 
Narrow, and low, and infinitelj' lesse 
Then this great morning's mighty busjnies. 

One little world or two 

(Alas) will neuer doe ; 2 5 

We must haue store. 
Goe, Sovl, out of thy self, and seek for more. 

Goe and retjuest 
Great Nat\Te for the key of her huge chest 
Of Heauns, the self-inuoluing sett of sphears " 30 
(Which dull mortality more feeles then heares). 

Then rouse the nest 
Of nimble Art, and trauerse round 
The aiery shop of soul-appeasing sound : 
And beat a summons in the same 3 5 

All-soueraign name, 
To warn each seuerall kind 
And shape of sweetnes, be they such 

As .sigh Avith .supple wind 

Or answer artfuU touch ; . 40 


That they comiene ami come away 
To Avait at the loue-crowned dooies of this illustri- 
ous day. love 
Shall \vc dare this, my Soul ? ■\ve'l doe't and bring 
No other note for't, but the name we sing. 

Wake Ivte.and harp, and eucry sweet-lipp't 

thing 45 

That talkes with tuncfuU string ; 
Start into life, and leap with me 
Into a hasty fitt-tun'd l;armony. 

Kor must you think it much 

T' obey my bolder touch ; 50 

I haue authority in Love's name to take you. 
And to the worke of Louc this morning wako you. 

AVake, in the name 
Of Him Who neuer sleeps, all things that are, 

Or, what's the same, 55 

Are musicall ; 

Answer my call 

And come along ; 
Help me to meditate mine immortal song. 
Come, ye soft ministers of sweet sad mirth, 60 

Bring all your houshold stuffe of Heaun on eartli ; 
O you, my Soid's most certain wings. 
Complaining pipes, and prattling strings, 

Bring all the store 
Of sweets you haue ; and nnirnuir that you liaue no 

more. 65 

VOL. I. 1 


Come, ne're to part, 

Nature and Art ! 
. Come ; and come strong. 
To the conspiracy of our spatious song. 

Bring all the powrcs of praise, 7 o 

Your prouinces of well-vnited worlds can raise ; 
Bring all your Ivtes and harps of Heavn and Earth ; 
Wliatere cooperates to the common mirthe : 

Vessells of vocall ioyes, 
Or you, more noble architects of intellectuall noise, 75 
Cymballs of Heau'n, or humane sphears, 
SoUiciters of sovles or eares ; 

And when you are come, with all 
That you can bring or we can call : 

may you fix 80 

For euer here, and mix 

Your selues into the long 
And euerlasting series of a deathlessc song ; 
j\rix all your many worlds aboue, 
And loose them into one of loue. 85 

Chear thee my heart ! 

For thou too hast thy part 

And place in the Great Throng 
Of tliis vnbounded all-imbracing song. 

Powres of my soul, be proud ! 90 

And speake lowd 
To aU the dear-bought Nations, this redeeming Name, 
And in the wealth of one rich word, jiroclaim 


New similes to Nature. May it be no wrong 

Blest Heauns, to you and your superioui- song, 95 

That we, dark sons of dust and sorrow, 

A while dare borrow 
The name of your dilights, and our desires, 
And fltt it to so farr inferior lyres. 
Our murmurs haue their musick too, 1 00 

Ye mighty Orbes, as well as you ; 

Nor yeilds the noblest nest 
Of warbling Seraphim to the eares of Loue, 
A choicer lesson then the ioyfull brest 

Of a poor panting turtle-doue. 1 05 

And we, low wormes, haue leaue to tloe 
The same bright busynes (ye Third Heavens) with you. 
Gentle spirits, doe not complain ! 

We will haue care 

To keep it fair, no 

And send it back to you again. 
Come, lonely Name ! Appeare froui forth the bright 

Eegions of peacefull light ; 
Look from Thine Own illustrious liome. 
Fair King of names, and come : 115 

Leaue all Thy natiue glories in their gorgeous nest, 
And giue Thy Self a M'hile the gracious Guest 
Of humble soules, that seek to find 

The hidden sweets 

^Yliich man's heart meets 120 

"When Thou art Master of the mind. 


Come lonely Name ; Life of our hope ! 

Lo, we hold our hearts wide ope ! 

Ynlock Thy cabinet of Day, 

Dearest Sweet, and come away. 125 

Lo, how the thirsty Lands 
Gasp for Thy golden showres ! with long-stretcht hands 
Lo, how the laboring Earth 
That hopes to be 

All Heauen by Thee, 1 30 

Leapes at Thy birth ! 
Th(!' attending World, to wait Thy rise, 

First turn'd to eyes ; 
And then, not knowing what to doe, 
Turn'd them to teares, and spent them too. 135 

('ome royall Xame ! and pay the expence 
Of all this pretious patience ; 

O come away 
And. kill the death of this delay ! 
O, see so many worlds of barren yeares 1 4° 

Melted and measur'd out in seas of teares : 
O, see the weary liddes of wakefull Hope 
(Love's eastern windowes) all wide ope 

With curtains drawn. 
To catch the day-break of Thy dawn. 145 

O, da\ni at last, long lookt for Day! 
Take Thine own wings, and come away. 
Lo, where aloft it comes ! It comes, among 
The conduct of adnrin.a spirits, that throng 


Like diligent bees, and swarm about it. 150 

0, they are wise, 
Ami know what sweetes are suck't from oiit it : 

It is the hiue. 

By which they thriue, 
"Where all theii- hoard of hony lyes. 155 

Lo, where it comes, vpon the snowy Dove's 
Soft back ; and brings a bosom big with loues : 
Welcome to our dark world. Thou womb of Day ! 
Vnfold Thy fair conceptions, and display 
The birth of our bright ioyes, Thou compacted 160 
Body of blessings : Spirit of soules extracted ! 
(), dissipate Thy spicy po^vTes, 
(Cloud of condensed sweets) and break vpon vs 

In balmy showrs ! 
0, fill our senses, and take from vs all force of so 

prophane a fallacy, 165 

To think ought sweet but that which smells of Thee ! 
Fair, flowry Name, in none but Thee 
And Thy nectareall fragrancy, 

Hourly there meetes 
An vniuersall synod of all sweets ; 170 

r>y whom it is defined thus, 

That no perfume 

For euer shall presume 
'i'o passe for odoriferous. 

But such alone whose sacred pedigree 175 

Can proue itself some kin (sweet Name !) to Thee. 


Sweet Name, in Thy each syllable 

A thousand blest Arabias dwell ; 

A thousand hills of frankincense, 

Mountains of myrrh, and beds of spices i8o 

And ten thousand paradises. 

The soul that tasts Thee takes from thence. 

How many vnknown worlds there are 

Of comforts, which Thou hast in keeping ! 

How many thousand mercyes there 185 

In Pitty's soft lap ly a-sleeping ! 

Happy ho who has the art 

To awake them, 

And to take them 
Home, and lodge them in his heart. 190 

O, that it were as it was wont to be ! 
When Thy old freinds of fire, all full of Thee, 
Fought against frowns with smiles ; gaue glorious 

To persecutions ; and against the face 
Of Death and feircest dangers, durst with braue 1 95 
And sober pace, march on to meet A grave. 
On their bold brests, about the world they bore Thee, 
And to the teeth of Hell stood vp to teach Thee ; 
In center of their inmost soules, they wore Thee, 
Where rackes and torments striu'd, in vain, to 

reach Thee. 200 

Little, alas, thought they 
Who tore the fair brests of Thy freinds, 



Tlieir fury but made way 
For Tlico, ami seruM tliem in Thy glorious emls. 
What did their weapons Liit with wider pores 205 
Inlargc Thy flaming-brested loners, 

]\Iore freely to transpire 

That impatient fire, 
The heart that liides Thee hardly couers ? 
"What did their weapons but sett wide the dooros 2 i o 
For Thee 1 fail-, purple doores, of Loue's deuising ; 
The ruby Avindowes which inricht the East 
Of Thy so oft-repeated rising ! 
Each wound of theirs was Thy new morning. 
And reinthron'd Thee in Thy rosy nest, 215 

AVitli blush of Thine Own blood Thy day adorn- 
ing : 
It was the witt of Loue oreflowd the bounds 
Of "Wrath, and made Thee way tlu-ough all those 

Wellcome, dear, all-adored Name ! 

For sure there is no knee 220 

That knowes not Thee : 
Or, if there be such sonns of shame, 

Alas ! what w^ill they doe 

"\Mien stubborn rocks shall bow 
And bills hang down their heaun-saluting heads 225 

To seek for humble beds 
Of dust, where in the bashfull shades of Night 


Next to their own low Nothing, thoy may ly, 
And couch before the dazeling light of Tliy dread 

They tliat by Loue's mild dictate now 230 

"Will not adore Thee, 
Shall then, with just confusion bow 

And break before Thee. 


The title in 1648 ' Steps' is simply ' Ou the name of Jesus." 
In 1670 it is ' To the Name above every Name, the Name of 
Jesus, a Hymn,' and throughout differs from our text (1652) 
only in usual modernisation of orthogi-aphy. The text of 1648 
yields these readings : 
Line 7, ' the bright.' 

42, ' of th's.' 

49, ' Into a habit fit of self tun'd Harmonie.' 

79, ' you're.' 

92, ' aloud.' 

105, ' Seraphins.' 

106, 'loyaU' for ' joyfuU.' 
132, ' heavens.' 
182 spells ' sillabell." 

187, ' The soules tastes thee takes from thence.' 
202, ' bare.' 
204, ' ware." 
209, ' For Thee : And serv'd therein thy glorious ends.' 

See our Essay for critical remarks ou the measure and 
rhythm of this poem as printed in our text (1652). G. 


Happy me ! happy sheepe ! i 

Wliom my God vouchsafes to keepe ; 

Even my God, even He it is, 

That points me to these paths of blisse ; 

Oil Whose pastiu-es cheerofull Spring, 5 

All the yeare doth sit and sing, 

And rejoycing, smiles to sec 

Their green backs weare His liverie : 

Pleasure sings my soul to rest, 

Plentie weares me at her brest, i o 

Whose sweet temper teaches me 

Nor wanton, nor in want to be. 

At my feet, the blubb'ring mountaine 

Weeping, melts into a fountaine ; 

Whose soft, silver-sweating streames 1 5 

Make high-noon forget his beames : 

When my wayward breath is flying. 

He calls home my soul from dying ; 

1 Appeared originally in the ' Steps' of 1646 (pp. 25-27) : was re- 
printed in editions of 1648 (pp. 40-42) and 1670 (pp. 26-28). Our 
text is that of 1648 : but see Notes and Illustrations at close of the 
poem. G. 

vol.. I. K 


Strokes and tames my rabid griefe, 

And does wooe me into life : 20 

When inj^ simple weaknes strayes, 

(Tangled in forbidden wayes) 

He (my Shepheard) is my guide, 

Hee's before me, on my side. 

And behind me, He beguiles 25 

Craft in all her knottie wiles : 

He expounds the weary wonder 

Of ray giddy steps, and under 

Spreads a path, cleare as the day, 

Where no churlish rub says nay 30 

To my joy-conducted feet, 

Whilst they gladly goe to meet 

Grace and Peace, to learne new laies, 

Tun'd to my great Shepheard's praise. 

Come now all ye terrors sally, 35 

IMuster forth into the valley. 

Where triumphant darknesse hovers 

With a sable wing, that covers 

Brooding horror. Come, thou Death, 

Let the damps of thy dull breath 40 

Over-shadow even that shade. 

And make Darknes' selfe afraid ; 

There my feet, even there, shall find 

Way for a resolved mind. 

Still my Shepheard, still my God, 45 

Thou art witli me ; still Thy rod, 



And Thy static, whose influence 

Gives direction, gives defence. 

At the whisper of Thy Avord 

Crown'd abundance spreads my boord : 50 

While I feast, my foes doe feed 

Theii- ranck malice not their need, 

So that with the self-same bread 

They are starv'd and I am fed. 

How my head in ointment swims ! 55 

How^ my cup o'relooks her brims ! 

So, even so still may I move, 

By the line of Thy deare love ; 

Still may Thy sweet mercy spread 

A shady arme above my head, 60 

About my paths ; so shall I find, 

The faire center of my mind, 

Thy temple, and those lovely walls 

Bright ever with a beame, that falls 

Fresh from the pure glance of Thine eye, 65 

Lighting to Eternity. 

There I'le dweU for ever ; there 

Will I find a purer aire 

To feed my life with, there I'le sup 

Balme and nectar in my cup ; 70 

And thence my ripe soule will 1 breath 

Warme into the armes of Death. 



Ill the Sanciioft ms. this iB headed ' Ps. 23 (Paraphrasia).' 
lu Hue 4 it reads ' paths' for ' wayes,' which I accept ; Hue 27 
' weary' for ' giddy,' and Hue 28 ' giddy' for ' weary,' both 
adopted ; Hue 29 reads as we have printed instead of ' Spreads 
a path as cleare as day;' line 33, 'learne' for ' meet,' adopted; 
Hue 41, ' that' for ' the,' adopted. Ouly orthographic fui-ther 
variations. In line 30 ' rub'= obstruction, reminds of Shake- 
si'eaee's ' Now evei-y rub is smoothed in our way' (Henry V. 
ii. 2), and elsewhere. G. 


On the proud banks of great Euphrates' flood, i 

There we sate, and there we wept : 
Our harjies, tliat now no musick understood, 

Nodding, on the willowes slept : 

"While unhappy captiv'd wee, 5 

Lovely 8ion, thought on thee. 
They, they that snatcht us from our countrie's breast, 

Would have a song carv'd to their eares 
In Hebrew numbers, then (0 cruell jest !) 

When harpes and hearts were drowu'd in teares : i o 

' Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 27, 28): reprinted 
in editions of 1G48 (pp. 42, 43) and 1G70 (pp. 28, 29). Our text is 
that of 1648, with which the others agree, ex<'cpt in usual slight 
changes of orthography, and the followuig adopted from the San- 
(KOKT MS. : line 7, a second ' they' inserted ; line 17, ' than' for 
' then ;' lino 21 ' nipea rch' /' = v:itho\\t perch or support. G. 

rsALM oxxxvu. 69 

Come, they ciy'd, come sing and play 
One of Sion's songs to-ilay. 
8ing? play? to whom (ah !) shall we sing or play, 

If not, Jerusalem, to thee ] 
Ah 1 thee Jerusalem ! ah ! sooner may 1 5 

This hand forget the masterie 
(_)f IMusick's dainty touch, than I 
The musick of thy memory. 
Which when I lose, O may at once my tongue 

Lose this same busie-speaking art, 20 

Vnpearch't, her vocall arteries unstrung, 

No more acquainted with my heart, 
On my dry pallat's roof to rest 
A Avither'd leaf, an idle guest. 
No, no. Thy good Sion, alone, must crowne 25 

The head of all my hope-nurst joyes. 
But Edom, cruell thou ! thou cryd'st downe, downe 
Sinke Sion, downe and never rise, 
Her falling thou did'st urge and thrust. 
And haste to dash her into dust : 30 

Dost laugh 1 proud Babel's daughter ! do, laugh on, 

Till thy ruine teach thee teares. 
Even such as these ; laugh, till a venging throng 
Of woes, too late, doe rouze tliy feares : 

Laugh, till thy children's bleediiig bones 35 
Weepe pretious teares upon the stones. 





The Hymn. 

Come, we shepheards, whose blest sight i 

Hath mett Loue's noou in Nature's night ; 
Come, lift we vp our loftyer song 
And wake the svn that lyes too long. 

To all our world of well-stoln joy 5 

He slept ; and dreamt of no such thing. 

While we found out Heauu's fairer ey 
And kis't the cradle of our Iving. 

Tell him He rises now, too late 
To show vs ought worth looking at. 10 

TeU him we now can show him more 
Then he e're show'd to mortall sight ; 

Then he himselfe e're saw before. 
Which to be seen needcs not his light. 

1 Appeared originally in the 'Steps" of 1G46 (pp. 28-31): re- 
printed ill editions of Tc-i^ (pp. 43-47), 1G5'2 (pp. 10-1(!) and 1670 
(pp. 29-3-2). Our text is that of 1052, as before, and its ent;Tavin}i 
here, is reproduced in our illustrated (|uarto e<lilion. .See Notes and 
Illustrations at close of this composilion. (J. 


Tell hiiu, Tityms, where th' hast been, 15 

Tell him Thyrsis, what th' hast seen. 


Gloomy night embrac't tlie place 
Wliere the noble Infant lay. 

The Babe look't vp and shcw'd His face ; 
In spite of darknes, it was day. 20 

It -was Thy day, Sweet ! and did rise 
Not from the East, but from Tliine ej'es. 

Chorus. It was Thy day, Sweet. 


Winter chidde aloud, and sent 
The angry North to wage his warres. 25 

The North forgott his feirce intent, 
And left perfumes in stead of scarres. 

By those sweet eyes' persuasiue powi-s 
Where he mean't frost, he scatter'd flowrs. 

Chorus. By those sweet eyes. 30 


We saw Thee in Thy baiilmy-nest, 
Young dawn of our seternaU Day ! 

We saw Thine eyes break from their East 
And chase the trembling shades away. 

We saw Thee ; and we blest the sight, 35 

We saw Thee by Thine Own sweet light. 



Poor world (said I), what wilt thou doe 
To entertain this starry Stranger? 

Is this the best thou canst hcstow ? 
A cold, and not too cleanly, manger? 40 

Contend, the powres of Heau'n and Earth, 
To fitt a bed for this huge birthe ? 

aiorus. Contend the powers. 

Proud world, said I, cease your contest 
And let the mighty Babe alone. 45 

The phffinix builds the phsnix' nest, 
Lov's architecture is his own. 

The Babe whose birth embraues this mom, 
Made His Own bed e're He was bom. 

CJwnis. The Babe whose 5° 


I saw the curl'd drops, soft and slow. 
Come houering o're the place's head ; 

Ofifrmg their whitest sheets of snow 
To furnish the fair Infant's bed : 

Forbear, said I; be not too bold, 55 

Your fleece is white but 'tis too cold. 
Chonw^. Forbear, sayd I. 
I saw the obseqmous Seraphims 
Their rosy fleece of fire bestoAv. 


For woU tliey now can si)are their Aving, Co 

Since Heavn itself lyes here below. 

■\Voll done, saiil I ; but arc you sure 
Your down so warm, will passe for pure ( 
C/iorii-i. Well done, sayd I. 


No, no ! youi- King's not yet to seeke 65 

Where to repose ITis royall head ; 

See, see ! how soon His new-bloom'd cheek 
Twixt's mother's brests is gone to bed. 

Sweet choise, said we ! no way but so 
Not to ly cold, yet sleep in snow. 70 

Chorus. Sweet choiso, said we. 

We saw Thee in Thy baulmy nest, 
Bright dawn of our a^ternall Day ! 

We saw Thine eyes break from their East 
•\nd chase the trembling shades away. 7 5 

We saw Thee : and we blest the sight, 
We saw Thee, by Thine Own sweet light. 
CJioi-H-n. We saw Thee, (fee. 

FvLL Chorvs. 
Wellcome, all wonders in one sight ! 
.Eternity shutt in a span ! 80 

Sommer in Winter, Day in Night ! 
Heauen in Earth, and God in man ! 
vor.. I. 1. 


Grecat, little One ! Whose all-embracing birth 
Lifts Earth to Ileauen, stoopes Heau'n to Earth. 

AVellcomc, though not to gold nor silk, 85 

To more then Cajsar's birth-vight is ; 

Two sister-seas of virgin-milk, 
With many a rarely-temper'd kisse, 

That breathes at once both maid and mother, 
Warmes in the one, cooles in the other. 90 

Shee sings Thy tears asleep, and dips 
Her kisses in Thy weeping eye ; 

She spreads the red leaves of Thy lips. 
That in their buds yet blushing lye : 

She 'gainst those mother-diamonds, tries 95 

The points of her young eagle's eyes. 

Wellcome, though not to those gay flyes, 
Guilded i' th' beames of earthly kings ; 

Slippery soules in smiling eyes : 
But to poor shepheards' home-spun things ; 1 00 

Whose wealth's their flock ; whose vriti, to 
Well-read in their simplicity. 

Yet when young April's husband-showrs 
Shall blesse the fruitfull Maja's bed, 

We'l bring the first-born of her flowrs 1 05 

To kisse Thy feet and crown Thy head. 

To Thee, dread Lamb ! Whose loue must keep 
Tlic shepheards, more then they the sheep. 

IN TllK IKH.V NATlVliV OF OVU LOUIt liOI>. / i) 

'l"o Tlu'C, nicok Majesty ! soft King 
Of simple Graces and sweet Loves : 1 1 o 

Each of vs liis lamb will bring, 
Each his pair of sylver clones : 

Till Imrnt at last in fire of Thy fair eyes, 
Ourselues become our own best sacrifice. 


In the Sancroft MS.the heading is simply 'A Hj-mne of the 
Nativitie sung by the Shepheavds.' It furnishes these various 
readings, though it wants a good deal of our text (1652) : 

Lines 1 to 4, 

' who haue seene 
Daic's Kiiig deposud by night's Quecne. 
Come lift we up oar lofty song. 
To wake the sun that sleeps too long.' 

„ 5 to 7, 

' Hee (in this our generall jov) 

Slept " . . 

the faire-ey'd boy.' 

,, 24, ' Winter chid the world . . . .' 
,, 32, 'Bright dawne . . . .' 
„ 58 to 63, 

' 1 saw the oflioious angells bring 

The downe that their soft breasts did strow : 
For well they now can spare their wings, 

Wlien heauen itselfe lies here below. 
Faire youth (said I ) be not too rough, 
Thy downe (though soft)'s not soft enough.' 

' Officious"= ready to do good offices : ' obsequious'^ ol)cdient, 
eager to serve. 
Lines 65 to 68, 

' The Babe noe sooner 'gan to seeke 

\\Tiere to lay His louely head ; 
But streight His eyes advis'd His cheeke 
'Twist's mother's breasts to goe to bed." 

,, 79, ' Welcome to our wond'ring sight.' 

,. 83, ' glorious birth.' 

,, 85, ' not to gold' for ' nor to gold :' adopted. 

,, 06, ' points'=; pupils (■?). 


NEW year's day. 

Lines 101 to 103, 

' B>it U) poore sheplieards' simple tilings, 
TlKit vse not vaniish ; noc oyl'd arts, _ 
But lift cleane hands full of cleare hearts. 
108, ' . . . . while they feed the sbecpe.' 
Ill, ' Wce'l burnc . . . .' 
These variatious ap-ee with the text of 161G. See our Essay 
for critical remarks. G. 


Rise, thou best aud brightest luoming ! 
llosy with a double red ; 

With thiiie own'bhish thy cheeks adoruiug, 
And the dear drops this day were shed. 

All the purple pride, that laces 
The crimson curtains of thy bed, 

Guilds thee not with so sweet graces, 
Nor setts thee in so rich a red. 

Of all the fair-cheek't flowrs that fill thee, 
None so fair thy bosom strowes, 

As this modest maiden lilly 
Our sins haue sham'd into a rose. 

1 Vnpeared originally in the ' Steps' of 1646 (pp. 94. 95), where it 
is beaded 'An Himne for the Circumcision day of our Lord : re- 
printed in edition of 1618 (pp. 47, 48) ^vith ' A" for 'An' m he^ulmg 
Ll in the -Carmen &c.' of 1652 (pp. 17, 18). bemg there entitled 
simply 'New Year's Day,' and in the edition of lb,0 (pp. .2-, 4). 
Our text is that of 1652, as before, but there are only slight differ- 
ences besides the usual orthographical ones, in any. See Notes and 
lllusfrations at close of the imem. G. 

NEW ykah's day. 77 

Bill thy golden god, the sun, 
lUiniisht in his best beanies rise. 

Put all his rcel-ey'd rubies on ; 
These rubies shall putt out their eyes. 

Let him make poor the purple East, 
Search what the Avorld's close cabinets keo]>, 

Kob the rich births of each bright nest 
That flaming in their fair beds sleep. 

Let him embraue his own bright tresses 
With a new morning made of gemmes ; 

And wear, in those his wealthy dresses, 
^biother day of diadems. 

AVhen ho hath done all he may 
To make himsclfe rich in his rise, 

All will bo darknes to the day 
That breakes from one of these bright eyes. 

And soon this sweet truth shall appear, • 

Dear Babe, ere many dayes be done ; ■ 

The ]\Iorn shall come to meet Thee here. 

And leaue her own neglected sun. ' 

Here are beautyes shall boreaue him 
( )f all his eastern paramours. 

His Persian loners all shall leaue hiiu, ] 

..Vnd swear faith to Thy sweeter powres ; 

Nor while they leave him shall they lose the sun. 
But in Thy fairest eyes find two for one. 



78 NEW year's uay. 


St. ii. line 1, 

' All the purjile pride that laces ;" 
the reference is to the empurpled lighter and lace- (or gauze-) 
like clouds of the morning. The heavier clouds are the ' crim- 
son curtains,' the ' purple laces' the fleecy, lace-like, and em- 
purpled streakings of the lighter and dissolving clouds, which 
the Poet likens to the lace that edged the coverlet, and possibly 
other pai-ts of the bed and bedstead. Sh.\kespe.\I!E describes a 
similar appearance with the same word, but uses it in the sense 
of inter or cross lacing, when he makes Juliet say (iii. 5), 

' look, love, what envious streaks 
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder East.' 

So too in stanza v. ' each sparkling nest,' the flame - coloured 
clouds are intended. ' Nest,' like ' bud,' is a favourite word 
with Ck.vsilvw, and he uses it freely. In 1648 edition, st. iii. 
line 2 reads ' showes ;' stanza v. line 2, ' cabinets;' stanza viii. 
line 5, ' and meet ;" stanza i.\. ' paramours'=: lovers, wooers, not 
as now signifying loose love. G. 



1 Kincjc. Bright Babe ! Wliose awfull beautyes niaT<(' i 

The morn incurr a sweet uiistake ; 

2 Kiiuje. For Whom tlie officious Heauns deuise 

To disiiiheritt tlie sun's rise : 

3 KiiKje. Delicately to displace 5 

The day, and plant it fairer in Thy face. 

1 Kingc. O Thou born King of loues ! 

2 Kinoe. Of lights ! 

3 Kinije. Of ioyes I 

Clto)iis. Look vp, sweet Babe, look vp and soe i o 
For loue of Thee, 
Thus farr from home 
The East is come 
To seek her self in Thy sweet eyes. 

' Appeared originally in the • Steps' of IG 48 (pp. 48-5,")), rcpriiitcil 
in ' Carmen' d-c. of 1G52 (pp. 19-28) and in 1G70 (pp. 15.3-I(il). Urn- 
text is that of 1052, as before: but see close for Notes and Illustra- 
tions. In our illustrated quarto edition we reproduce the engravinn 
here of 1052. G. 


1 Khifjc. We, who strangely went astray, 15 

Lost in a bright 
Meridian night. 

2 Kimje. A darknes made of too much daj'. 

3 Kiixji: Becken'd from furr 

By Thy fair starr, 20 

Lo, at last haue found our way. 
Chorus. To Thee, Thou Day of Xight ! Thou East 
of West ! 
Lo, we at last haue found the way 
To Thee, the World's great vniuorsal East, 
The generall and indifferent Day. 25 

1 Kinrje. All-circling point ! all-centring sphear ! 

The World's one, round, reternall year : 

2 Kinr/c. Whose full and all-'\Tiwrinkled face 

Xor sinks nor swells with time or place ; 

3 Kiiiijti. But euery where and euerj' while 30 

Is one consistent, solid smile : 

1 Kinge. Not vext and tost 

2 Kiiiffe. 'Twixt Spring and frost ; 

3 Kinge. Nor bj* alternate shredds of light, 

Sordidly shiftinghands with shades and Night. 
Clioi'us. little all ! in Thy embrace 36 

The World lyes warm, and likes his place ; 
Nor does his full globe fail to be 
Kist on both his cheeks by Thee. 
Time is too narrow for Thy year, 40 

Nor makes tlie whole World Thy haK-sphear. 


1 Kinge. To Tlico, to Thue 

From him we flee. 

2 Kinge. From him, whom by a more iUustrious ly, 

The blindnes of the World did call the eye. 45 

3 Kinge. To Him, Who by these mortall clouds hast 

Thyself our sun, though Thine Own shade. 

1 Kinge. Farewell, the World's false light ! 

Farewell, the white 
^gypt; a long farewell to thee 50 
Bright idol, black idolatry : 
The dire face of inferior darknes, kis't 
And courted in the pompus mask of a 
more specious mist. 

2 Kinge. . Farewell, farewell 

The proud and misplac't gates of Hell, 5 5 
Pertch't in the Morning's way jjercherf. 
And double-guilded as the doores of Day : 
The deep hypocrisy of Death and N^ight 
More desperately dark, because more bright. 

3 Kinge. Welcome, the World's sure way ! 60 

Heavn's wholsom ray. 
Chorus. Wellcome to vs ; and we 

(Sweet !) to our selues, in Thee. 

1 Kinge. The deathles Heir of all Thy Father's day ! 

2 Kinge. Decently bom! 65 

Embosom'd in a much more rosy Morn ; 
The blushes of Thy all-vnblomisht mother. 

VOL. 1. M 


3 Kinge. ^o more that other 

Aurora shall sett ope 
Her ruby casements, or hereafter hope 7° 

From mortaU eyes 
To meet religious welcomes at her rise. 
Choi'zis. We (pretious ones !) in you haue won 
A gentler ISIorn, a luster sun. 

1 Kinffe. His superficiall beames sun-bum't our 

skin; 75 

2 Kinqe. But left within 

3 Kinge. The Night and Winter still of Death and Sin. 
Chorus. Thy softer yet more certaine darts 

Spare our eyes, but peirce our harts : 

1 Kinge. Therfore with his proud Persian spoiles 8o 

2 Kinge. We court Thy more concerning smiles. 

3 Kinge. Therfore ^vith his disgrace 

We guild the humble cheek of this chast 
place ; 
Choi-us. And at Thy feet powr forth his face. 

1 Kinge. The doating Nations now no more 85 

Shall any day but Thine adore. 

2 Kinge. Nor— much lesse— shaU they leaue these eyes 

For cheap ^Igyptian deityes. 

3 Kinge. In whatsoe're more sacred shape 

Of ram, he-goat, or reuerend ape ; 9° 

Those beauteous rauishers opprest so sore 
The too-hard-tempted nations. 
1 Klngt-. Xeuer more 


By wanton heyfer shall be worn 

2 Kintje. A garland, or a guQeled horn : 95 

The altar-stall'd ox, fott Osyris now 
With his fair sister coav 

3 Kintje. Shall kick tlie clouds no more ; but lean 

and tame, 
Vhorua. See His horn'd face, and dy for shame : 

And i\Iitlira now shall be no name. 1 00 

•1 Kingc. No longer shall the immodest lust 

Of adulterous godles dust 

2 Kinge. Fly in the face of Heau'n ; as if it were 

The poor World's fault that He is fair. 105 

3 Kliige. Nor ^nth peruerse loiies and religious rapes 

Eeuenge Thy bountyes in their beauteous 

shapes ; 
And punish best things worst ; because 

they stood 
Guilty of being much for them too good. 

1 Ki)igc. Proud sons of Death! that durst compell no 

Heau'n it self to find them Hell : 

2 Kinge. And by strange witt of madnes wrest 

From this World's East the other's West. 

3 Kinge. All-idolizing wormes ! that thus could crowd 

And vTge their sun into Thy cloud ; 115 

Forcing His sometimes eclips'd face to be 
A long deliquium to the light of Thee. 
Chorus. Alas ! with how much heauyer shade 

The shamcfac't lamp hung down his head 



For that one eclipse lie made, 1 20 

Then all those he suffered ! 

1 Kinge. For this he look't so bigg; and euery mom 

With a red face confes't his scorn. 

Or hiding his vex't cheeks in a hu'd mist 

Kept them from being so vnkindly kis't. 125 

2 Kiiuje. It was for this the Day did rise 

So oft with blubber'd eyes : 
For this the Evening wept; and we ne're knew 
But call'd it deaw. 
3Kln<jc. This dayly \\Tong 13° 

Silenc't the morning- sons, and damp't their 
song : 
Chorm. Nor was't our deafnes, but our sins, that thus 
Long made th' harmonious orbes all mute to vs. 

1 Kinge. Time has a day in store 

When this so proudly poor 135 

And self-oppressed spark, that has so long 
By the loue-sick AVorld bin made 
Not so much their sun as shade : 
Weary of this glorious wi'ong 
From them and from himself shall flee 1 40 
For shelter to the shadow of Thy tree : 
Chorus. Proud to haue gain'd this pretious losse 
And chang'd his false crown for Thy crosse. 

2 Kinge. That dark Day's clear doom shall define 

AVhose is the master Fire, which sun should 

shine : '45 


That sable judgment-seat shall by new lawes 
Decide and settle the great cause 
Of controuerted light : 
Chorus. And Natur's wrongs rejoyce to doc Thee riglit. 
3 Kinge. That forfeiture of Xoon to Night shall pay 1 50 
All the idolatrous thefts done by this Night 

of Day; 
And the great Penitent presse his own pale lipps 
With an elaborate loue-eclipse : 
To which the low World's lawes 
Shall lend no cause, 1 5 5 

Cliorun. Saue those domestick which He boiTowes 
From our sins and His Own sorrowes. 

1 Kinge. Three sad hours' sackcloth then shall show 

to vs 
His penance, as our fault, conspicuous : 

2 K/'iige. And He more needfully and nobly proue 1 60 

The Nations' terror now then erst their louc. 

3 Kinge. Their hated loues changd into wholsom 

feares : 
Choruty. The shutting of His eye shall open their's. 

1 Kinge. As by a fair-ey'd fallacy of Day 

Miss-ledde, before, they lost their way ; 165 

So shall they, by the seasonable fright 

Of an vnseasonable Niglit, 

Loosing it once again, stumble on true Light : 

2 Kinge. And as before His too-bright eye 

Was their more blind idolatry; 170 


So liis officious bl indues now shall be 
Their black, but faithfull perspectiue of Thee : 

3 Kinye. His new prodigious Xight, 
Their new and admirable light, 
The supernaturall dawn of Thy pure Day; 175 

"While wondring they 
(The happy conuerts now of Him 
A\niom they compell'd before to be their sin) 

Shall henceforth see 
To kisse him only as theii- rod, 180 

Wliom they so long courted as God. 

Clwrus. And their best vse of him they worship't, be 
To learn of him at last, to worsliip Thee. 

1 Kinge. It was their weaknes woo'd his beauty ; 

But it shall be 185 

Their wisdome now, as well as duty, 
To injoy his blott ; and as a large black letter 
Vse it to spell Thy beautyes better ; 
And make the Xight it self their torch to Thee. 

2 Kinge. By the oblique ambush of this close night 190 

Couch't in that conscious shade 
The right-ey'd Areopagite 
Shall with a vigorous guesse inuade 
And catch Thy quick reflex ; and sharply see 

On this dark ground 195 

To descant Thee. 

3 Kinge. O prize of the rich Spiiit ! mth what feirce 


IN TIIK GLOniOVS EPirilAXlK OF OVl! l.ORU flOl). S/ 

Of his strong soul, shall lu- 
Leap at thy lofty face, 
And seize the swift flash, in relioiuul 200 

Fi*om this obsequious cloud, 
Once call'd a sun, 
Till dearly thus vndone ; 
Chontji. Till thus triumphantly tam'd (0 ye two 

Twinne ssmnes !) and taught now to negotiate 
you. 205 

1 Kbigt'. Thus shall that reuerend child of Light, 

2 Kiuge. By being scholler first of that new Night, 

Come forth great master of the mystick Day ; 

3 Kimje. And teach obscure mankind a more close way 

By the frugall negatiue light 210 

Of a most wise and well-abused Night . 
To read more legible Thine originall ray; 
Chorus. And make our darknes seme Thy Day : 
Maintaining 'twixt Thy World and oures 
A commerce of contrary powres, 215 

A mutuall trade 

'Twixt sun and shade, 
By confederat black and white 
Borrowing Day and lending Night. 219 

1 Kinge. Thus we, who when with all the noble powres 
That (at Thy cost) are call'd, not vainly, ours : 

We vow to make braiie way 
Vpwards, and presse on for the pure intelli- 
gentiall prey; 


2 KliKje. At least to play 

The amorous spyes 225 

And peep and proffer at Thy sparkling llirone ; 

3 Khige. In stead of bringing in the blissfull prize 

And fastening on Thine eyes : 

Forfeit our own 

And nothing gain 230 

But more ambitious losse at last, of brain ; 
CJiorns. Now by abased liddes shall learn to be 

Eagles; and shutt our eyes that we may see. 

The Close. 
[Chorus.] Therfore to Thee and Thine auspitious ray 

(Dread Sweet !) lo thus 236 

At last by vs, 
The delegated eye of Day 
Does first his scepter, then himself, in solemne 
tribute pay. 
Thus he vndresses 240 

His sacred vnshorn tresses ; 
At Thy adored feet, thus he layes down 

1 Kinge. His gorgeous tire 

Of flame and fire, 

2 Kinge. His glittering robe. 3 Kinge. His sparkling 

crown; 245 

1 Kinge. His gold : 2 Kinge. His mirrh : 3 Kinge. 

His frankincense. 
CJiotms. To which he now has no pretence : 


For being show'd by this Day's light, how farr 
He is from sun enough to make Tliy starr, 
His best ambition now is but to be 250 

Somthing a brighter shadow, Sweet, of Thee. 
Or on Heaun's azure forhcad high to stand 
Thy golden index ; with a duteous hand 
Pointing vs home to our own sun 
The World's and his Hyperion. 255 


The title in 1648 edition is simply 'A Hymne for the Epi- 
phanie. Sung as by the three Kings.' Except the usual slight 
changes of orthogi-aphy, the following are all the variations be- 
tween the two texts necessary to record : and I give with them 
cei-tain con-ective and explanatory notes : 

Line 25, 'indifferent' is = impartial, not as now 'uncon- 

Line 52, 1648 edition mispi-ints ' his't' for ' kis't.' In the 
5l8t line the ' bright idol' is the sun. 
Line 83, ib. reads ' thy' for ' this.' 
„ 95, ' a guUded horn.' Cf. Juvenal, Satire x. 
„ 99, ib. is given to 3d King. Throughout we have cor- 
rected a number of slips of the Paris printer in his figures. 
Line 108, ib. spells ' to' for ' too.' 
,, 117, 'deliquium' =sv;oon, faint. In chemistry = melting. 
„ 122, 1648 edition reads 'his' for 'this;' and I have 
adopted it. 

Line 143, ib. reads ' deere :' a mispiint. 
,, 155, ib. reads ' domesticks.' 
„ 180, ib. reads ' the' for ' theii-.' 
,, 186, ib. di-ops 'it.' 

„ 195, ib. reads ' what' for ' that,' and in nest line ' his' 
for ' this,' of 1652 : both adopted. 
Line 212, ' legible' is=rlegibly. 
" ^^"^ ^^^ onward, in 1648 is printed ' least,' in om- text 
(16o2) ' lest.' Except in Une 224 it is plainlv = last, and so I 
read it in 231st and 237th. 
VOL. I. 



See om- Es^say for Miltonic parallels with lineB in this re^ 
markablc composition. Line 46, 'these mortal clouds, ..<•. of 
infant flesh. Cf. Sosp. d' Herode, stanza xxui. 

' That He whom the sun serves should faintly peep 
Tlirough clouds of infant flesh.' 

Line 114 'And urge theii- sun into Thy cloud,' i.e. into becom- 
ing Thv cloud, forcing him to become ' a long deliqmum to the 
liTht of thee.- Line 189, our test (1652) misprints ' m self. Line 
190 'Bv the obUque ambush,' &c. The Kings continuing in the 
spirit of prophecy, and with words not to be understood tiU their 
fulfUment, pass on from the dimming of the sun at the Crucifixion 
to a second dimming, but this time through the splendour of a 
brighter U'^ht, at the conversion of him who was taken to preach 
to the Gentiles in the court of the Ai'eopagites. The speaker, or 
rather Ckashaw, takes the view which at first sight may seem to 
be impUed in the gospel nan-ative, that the light brighter than 
midday shone round about Saul and his compamons but not on 
them 'thev being couched in the conscious shade of the day- 
light Throughout, there is a double allusion to this second 
dSnming of the sun as manifesting Christ to St. Paul and the 
Gentiles, and to the dimming of the eyes, and the walking m dark- 
ness for a time of him who as a light on Earth was to mani- 
fest the True Light to the worid. Throughout, too, thei-^ ^^ « 
kind of paraUelism indicated between the two lesser lights. Both 
rebellions were to be dimmed and brought into subjection and 
then to shine forth ' right-eyed' in renewed and pi^ified splend- 
our as evidences of the Sun of Righteousness. Hence at the 
close, the choiiis caUs them 'ye twin-suns -and the words 
•TiU thus triumphantly tamed' refer equally to both. Ihe 
punctuation to make this clear should be ' .... sun, . . . un- 
done • • • To negotiate vou' (both word and metaphor being 
rathel-'unhappUy chosen) means, to pass yo'J ^J"""^* as the 
true-stamped image of the Deity. ' O pnee of the nch Spmt 
line 197 1 mav be made to refer to ' thee :0 Chiist , pnce of the 
rich spii-if of Paul, but ' may be" is almost too strong to apply 
to such an inteiTretation. It is far more consonant to the s inic- 
ture and tenor of the whole passage, to read it as an epithet 
applied to St. Paul: ' O prize of the lich Sp,nt of p-a^*;- J 
have also without hesitation changed ' of this strong soul mo 
' of his strong soul.' ' Oblique ambush' may refer to the ob- 
lique rays of the sun now rays of darkness, but the piimaiy 

To THK yVKEN's MAlliSTY. 91 

reference is to the indirect manner anil ' vigorous ^iiess,' by 
which St. Paul, mentally ghincinjj; from one to the other light, 
learned through the dimming of the sun to believe in the Ueity 
of Him who spake from out the dimming brightness. The 
same thought, though with a strained and less successful ellbrt 
of expression, appears in the song of tlie thii-d King, ' with that 
tierce chase,' itc. 

Line 251. ' Somthing a brighter shadow (Sweet) of Thee.' Ap- 
parently a remembrance of a passage which Thomas Heywood, 
in his ' Hierarchic of the Angels,' g^ves from a Latin trans- 
lation of Plato, ' Lumen est umbra Dei et Deus est Lumen 
Luminis.' On which see our Essay. Perhaps the same gave 
rise to the thought that the sun eclipsed God, or shut Him out 
as a cloud or shade, or made night, e.g. 

' Aiiil urge their sun 

. . . . eclipse he miule :' (U'les 1 15- 20). 
' Not so much their sun as shade 

. . . . by this night of day :' (lines 138-131). 0. 


Madame, i 

'Mongst those loug rowes ofcrownes that guild your race, 

These royall sages sue for decent place : 

The day-break of the Nations ; tlieir first ray, 

When the dark "World dawn'd into Christian Day, 5 

And smilVl i' th' Babe's bright face ; the purpling bud 

And rosy dawn of the right royall blood ; 

Fair fijst-fruits of the Lamb ! sure kings in this, 

They took a kingdom while they gaue a kisse. 

But the "World's homage, scarse in these well blown, 10 

We read in you (rare queen) ripe and full-grown. 

* Appeared originally in ' Steps' of 1648 (pp. 55, 56) : repruited 
in editions of 16.j2 (pp. 29. 30) and 1670 (pp. 161, 162). Our text is 
that of 1652, as before : but sec Notes at close of the poem. G. 

92 TO THE qveen's maiesty. 

For from this day's rich seed of diadems 

Does rise a radiant croppe of royalle stemuis, 

A golden haruest of crown'd heads, that meet 

And crowd for kisses from the Lamb's white feet : 1 5 

In this illustrious throng, your lofty floud 

SweUs high, fair confluence of aU high-born bloud : 

With your bright head, whole groues of scepters bend 

Their wealthy tops, and for these feet contend. 

So swore the Lamb's dread Sire : and so we see't, 20 

Crownes, and the heads they kisse, must court these 

Fix here, fair majesty! May your heart ne're misse 
To reap new crownes and kingdoms from that kisse; 
Nor may we misse the ioy to meet in you 
The aged honors of this day still new. 25 

May the great time, in you, still greater be, 
While all the year is your epiphany 3 
While your each day's deuotion duly brings 
Tliree kingdomes to supply tliis day's three kings. 


In 1648 the title is ' To the Queene's Majestie upon his 
dedicating to her the foregoing Hymne, viz. " ^ Hymne for the 
Epiphanie," ' which there precedes, bnt m 16o-2 follows, the 
dedicatory lines to the Queen. 1648 fui-nishes these variations : 
line 7 misprints 'down' for ' dawn:" line 11 reads deare for 
• rare :' line 14 'royaU' for ' golden :' Unc 18 con-ccts onr text s 
misprint of ' whose- for ' whole," which I have accepted : line 20 
reads ' gieaf for ' di-ead.' 

In line 3 we read 

' Those royall sages sue for decent place.' 


We know that thi- Kin-: on Twolfth-ilny presented gold, frank- 
incense and mjrrh, and so perhaps did the Queen. But these 
gifts were not presented to the magi-kiugs, and Chasiiaw seems 
to sue on behalf of ' these royall sages.' The exphination doubt- 
less is that this was a verse-letter to the Queen, enclosing as 
a gift his Epiphany Hymn ' sung as by the three Kings.' 

In line 5 'the purpling bud,' I'i.-c. requires study. Led by 
the (erroneous) punctuation (face,) I supposed tliis clause to 
refer to the ' Babe.' But would our Poet have said that the 
' dawn of the world smOcd on the Babe's face,' and in the same 
breath have called the face a ' rosy dawn' ? Looking to this, 
and his rather profuse employment of ' bud,' I now believe the 
clause to be another description of the Idngs, and punctuate 
(face ;). The rhythm of the passage is certainly improved 
thereby and made more like that of Chashaw, and the words 
' right I'oyall blood,' which may be thought to become difficult, 
can be thus explained. The races of the heathen kings were 
not ' royal,' theii- authority being usurped and falsely derived 
from false gods, and the kingly blood first became truly royal 
when the kings recognised the supreme sovereignty of the King 
of kings and the derivation of their authority from Him, and 
when they were in tui'n recoprnised by Him. Hence the use of 
the epithet ' pui-pling,' the Chi-istian or Christ-accepting kings 
being the first who were truly 'born in the pui-ple,' or 'right 
roj-all blood.' 

In lines 15-18, as punctuated in preceding editions, the 
Poet is made to arrange his words after a fashion hardly to 
be called English, and to jumble his metaphors like a poetaster 
or 4th of July orator in America. But both sense and poetry 
are restored by taking the (!) after ' blood' as at least equal to 
(:), and by replacing 'whose' by 'whole,' as in 1648. This 
seems to us restoration, not change. Even thus read, however, 
the passage is somewhat cloudy ; but the construction is — the 
gi-oves of sceptres of your high-born ancestors bend with you 
theii- wealthy tops, when you bow down your head. Our Poet is 
fond of inversions, and thej' are sometimes more obscui'e than 
they ought to be. Line 20 = Psalm i., and cf. PhUip. ii. 11. G. 


KisE heire of fresh Eternity ' 

From thy virgin tombe ! 
Rise mighty Man of wonders, and Thy World with Thee ! 

Thy tombe the uniuersall East, 

Nature's new wombe, 5 

Thy tombe, fair Immortalitie's perfumed nest. 

Of all the glories make Noone gay, 

This is the Morne ; 
Tliis Hock buds forth the fountaine of the slreames 
of Day; 
In Joye's wliite annalls live this howre lo 

When Life was borne ; 
No cloud scoule on His radiant lid!^, no tempest lower. 

Life, by this Light's nativity 

All creatures have ; 
Death onely by this Daye's just doome is forc't to dye, 

Nor is Death forc't ; for may he ly 1 6 

Thron'd in Thy grave. 
Death will on this condition be content to dye. 

1 Appeared originaUv iu 'Steps' of 1G4G (pp. 22, 23) : reprinted 
,n 1G48 (pp. 56, 57) and in 1670 (pp. 23. 24). Our text is that of 
1648, with the exception of reading in Ime 10, 'live' for ' lives, from 
1646 (and so in 1670). Other slight differences are simply ni ortho- 
graphy, and not noted. In the S.vsckoft ms. the hcadmg is A pon 
Christ's Resurrection.' G. 



Casting the times with their stronii niniwn, 

Death's master his owne death divines : 

Strugling for helpe, his best hope is 

Herod's suspition may heale his. 

Therefore he send.'i a fiend to ^cake 

The sleeping tyrant's fond mistake ; foolish 

Who feares (in vaine) that He Whose birth 

Meanes Heav'n, should meddle icith his Earth. 

Muse, now the servant of soft loves no more, 
Hate is thy theanie, and Herod, whose un blest 
Hand (0 what dares not jealous greatnesse?) tore 
A thousand sweet babes from their mothers' brest : 

1 For critical remarks on the present very striking expansion and 
interpretation rather than translation of Marino, the Reader is re- 
ferred to our Essay. The Sanckoi-t ms. must have contained this 
poem, for it is inserted in the index ; but nnfortunatelj- the pa^es of 
the MS. containing? it have disappeared. It was first published in 
the 'Steps' of 1G4G (pp. 51-73), and was reprinted in the editions of 
1()48 and 1670: and separately, with a brief introduction, a few years 
since. Our text is that of 1648 (pp. .57-74) ; but it differs from the 
edition of 1046 only in slight changes of spelling, e.g. ' hee' for ' he,' 
■ guild' for ' gild,' and the like— not calling for record. The edition 


The bloomes of niartyrdome. O be a dore 

Of language to my infant lips, yee best 

Of confessours : whose throates answering his swords, 
Gave forth your blood for breath, spoke soules for 


Great Anthony ! Spain's well-beseeming pride, 
Thou mighty branch of emperours and kings ; 
The beauties of whose dawne what eye may bide ? 
Which with the sun himselfe weigh's equall wings ; 
Mappe of heroick worth ! whom farre and wide 
To the beleeving world. Fame boldly sings : 

Deignethou to weare this humble wreath, that bowes 
To be the sacred honour of thy browes. 

Xor needs my Muse a blush, or these bright flowers 
Other than what their o^^Tie blest beauties bring : 

of 1670, in St. i. line 3, misprints ' so what' for ' O what, and Turn- 
bull repeats the error, and of himself misreads m St. xxu. ^N ho 
thunders on a throne of stars above' for 'Who in a throne of stars 
thunders above,' and in like manner in st. xxiv. line 8 substitutes 
' setting- for ' finding,' and in st. xxvi. line 3 ' serve' for sen-es. 
Again in st. li. first line of which is left partially blank, from (pro- 
bably) the illegibilitv of Ckashaw's ms., Tur.nbu..l tac.tly fills in, 
' By proud usurping Herod now was borne.- So too, besides lesser 
orthographic alterations, in st. xxxvi. line 2 he does not detect the 
stupil misprmt 'whose' for 'my,' nor that of -fight' ior's^ghtm 
st xlvii. line 8, while in st. Ixi. he drops 'all,' which even the 16,0 
edition does not do, any more than is it responsible for a tithe of 
Turnbull's misrakes here and throughout. G. 


They were the smiling sons of those sweet bowers 
That drink the deaw of life, whose deathlesse spring, 
Nor Sirian flame nor Borean frost deflowers : 
From whence heav'n-labouring bees with busie wing. 

Suck hidden sweets, which well-digested proves 

Ininiortall hony for the hive of loves. 


Thou, whose strong hand with so transcendent worth, 

Holds high the reine of faire Parthenope, 

That neither Eome nor Athens can bring forth 

A name in noble deeds rivall to thee ! 

Thy fame's full noise, makes proud the patient Earth, 

Farre more then, matter for my Muse and mee. 

The Tyrrhene Seas and shores sound all the same 
And in their murmurs keepe thy mighty name. 


Below the bottome of the great Abysse, 
There where one center reconciles all things : 
The "World's profound heart pants ; there placed is 
Mischiefe's old master. Close about him clings 
A cmi'd knot of embracing snakes, that kisse 
His correspondent cheekes : these loathsome strings 
Hold the perverse prince in eternaU ties 
Fast bound, since first he forfeited the .skies. 


The judge of torments and the king of teares, 
He fills a biirnisht throne of quenchlesse fire : 
VOL. I. o 

98 SOSPETTO d' heroue. 

And for his old faire roabes of light, he weares 
A gloomy mantle of darke flames ; the tire 
That crownes his hated head on high appeares : 
Where seav'n tall homes (liis empire's pride) aspire. 
And to make up Hell's majesty, each home 
Seav'n crested Hydras, horribly adome. 


His eyes, the sullen dens of Death and Night, 
Startle the dull ayre with a dismall red : 
Such his fell glances, as the fatall light 
Of staring comets, that looke kingdomes dead. 
From his black nostrills, and blew lips, in spight 
Of Hell's owne stinke, a worser stench is spread. 

His breath Hell's lightning is : and each deepe 

Disdaines to think that Heav'n thunders alone. 


His flaming eyes' dire exhalation, 

Vnto a dreadfull pile gives fiery breath ; 

Whose unconsum'd consumption preys upon 

The never-dying life of a long death. 

In this sad house of slow destruction, 

(His shop of flames) hee fryes himself, beneath 
A masse of woes ; his teeth for torment gnash, 
While his Steele sides sound with his tayle's strong 



Tliree rigourous virgins waiting still behind, 
Assist the throne of th' iron-sceptred king. 
With whips of thomes and knotty vipers twin'd 
They rouse him, when his ranke thoughts need a sting. 
Their lockes are beds of uncomb'd snakes that wind 
About their shady browes in wanton rings. 

Thus reignesthe wrathfull king, and while he reignes, 
His scepter and himsclfe both he disdaines. 


Disdainefull wretch ! how hath one bold sinne cost 
Thee all the beauties of thy once bright eyes ! 
How hath one black eclipse cancell'd, and crost 
The glories that did gild thee in thy rise ! 
Proud morning of a perverse day ! how lost 
Art thou unto thy selfe, thou too selfe-wise 
Narcissus ! foolish Phaeton ! who for all 
Thy high-aym'd hopes, gaind'st but a flaming fall. 


From Death's sad shades to the life-breathing ayre, 
This mortall enemy to mankind's good, 
Lifts his malignant eyes, wasted with care, 
To become beautifull in humane blood. 
Where lordan melts his chrystall, to make faii-e 
The fields of Palestine, with so pure a flood, 
There does he fixe his eyes : and there detect 
New matter, to make good his great suspect. 



He calls to mind th' old quarrell, and what sparke 
Set the contending sons of Heav'n on fire : 
Oft in his deepe thought he revolves the darke 
Sibill's divining leaves : he does enquire 
Into th' old prophesies, tremtling to marke 
How many present prodigies conspire, 

To crowne their past predictions, both he layes 
Together, in his pondrous mind both weighs. 


Heaven's golden-winged herald, late he saw 

To a poore Galilean virgin sent : 

How low the bright youth bow'd, and with what awe 

ImmortaU flowers to her faire hand present. 

He saw th' old Hebrewe's wombe, neglect the law 

Of age and barrennesse, and her babe prevent anticqjate 

His birth by his devotion, who began 

Betimes to be a saint, before a man. 


He saw rich nectar-thawes, release the rigour 
Of til' icy North ; from frost-bound Atlas hands, 
His adamantine fetters fall : green vigour 
Gladding the Scythian rocks and Libian sands. 
He saw a vernall smile, sweetly disfigure 
Winter's sad face, and through the flowry lands 
Of faire Engaddi, hony-sweating fountaines 
"With manna, milk, and balm, ncAv-broach the 

SOSPETTO d' uekode. 101 


He saw how iu that blest Day-bearing Night, 
The Heav'ii-rebukeci shades made hast awayj 
How bright a da^vne of angels with new light 
Amaz'd the midnight world, and made a Day 
Of which the ^lorning knew not. IMad with spiglit 
He markt how the poore shepheards ran to pay 
Theii- simple tribute to the Babe, Whose birth 
Was the great businesse both of Heav'n and Earth. 


He saw a threefold Sun, with rich encrease 
Make proud the ruby portalls of the East. 
He saw the Temple sacred to sweet Peace, 
Adore her Prince's birth, flat on her brest. 
He saw the falling idolls, aU confesse 
A comming Deity ; He saw the nest 

Of pois'nous and unnaturall loves, Eartli-nurst, 
Toucht with the World's true antidote, to burst. 


He saw Heav'n blossome with a new-borne Ught, 
On which, as on a glorious stranger gaz'd 
The golden eyes of Night : whose beame made bright 
The way to Beth'lem, and as boldly blaz'd, 
(Nor askt leave of the sun) by day as night. 
By whom (as Heav'ns illustrious hand-maid) rais'd, 
Three kings (or what is more) tlu-ee wise men went 
Westward to find the World's true orient. 



Strucke with these great concurrences of things, 
Symptomes so deadly unto Death and him ; 
Faine Avould he have forgot what fatall strings 
Eternally bind each rebellious limbe. 
He shooke hiinselfe, and spread his spatious wings : 
"Which like two bosom'd sailes, embrace the dimme 
Aire, vdih. a disniall shade ; but all in vaine : 
Of sturdy adamant is his strong chaine. 


While thus Heav'n's highest counsails, by the low 
Footsteps of their effects, he trac'd too well, 
He tost his troubled eyes : embers that glow 
Now with new rage, and wax too hot for Hell : 
With his foule clawes he fenc'd his furrowed brow. 
And gave a gastly shreeke, whose honid yell 

Ran trembling through the hollow vaults of Night, 
The while his twisted tayle he gnaw'd for spight. 


Yet on the other side, faine would he start 

Above liis feares, and thinke it cannot be. 

He studies Scripture, strives to sound the heart 

And feele the pulse of every prophecy ; 

He knows (but kiiowes not how, or by what art) 

The HeaVn-expecting ages hope to see 

A mighty Babe, AVliose pure, unspotted birth 
From a chast virgin wombe, should blesse the Earth. 



But these vast mysteries his senses smother, 

And reason (lor what's faith to him?) devoure. 

How she that is a maid should prove a mother, 

Yet keepe inviolate her vii'gin flower ; 

How God's eternall Sonne should be Man's brother, 

Poseth his proudest intellectuall power. 
How a pure Spirit should incarnate bee, 
And Life it selfe weare Death's fraile livery. 


That the great angell-blinding Light should shrinke 
His blaze, to shine in a poore shepherd's eye : 
That the nnmeasur'd God so low should sinke, 
As pris'ner in a few poore rags to lye : 
That from His mother's brest He milke should drinke, 
Wlio feeds with nectar Heav'n's fairs family : 
That a vile manger His low bed should prove. 
Who in a throne of stars thunders above. 


That He Whom the sun serves, should faintly peepe 
Through clouds of infant flesh : that He the old 
Eternall Word should be a chUd, and weepe : 
That He Wlio made the fire, should feare the cold : 
That Heav'n's high Majesty His court should keepe 
In a clay-cottage, by each blast control'd : 

That Glorie's Self should serve our gi-iefs and feares. 

And free Eternity, submit to yeares. 



And further, that the Lawe's eternall Giver 
Should bleed in His Owne Lawe's obedience : 
And to the circumcising knife deliver 
HimseLfe, the forfet of His slave's offence : 
That the unblemisht Lambe, blessed for ever, 
Should take the marke of sin, and pauie of sence. 
These are the knotty riddles, whose darke doubt 
Intangles his lost thoughts, past getting out. 


While new thoughts boyl'd in his enraged brest. 

His gloomy bosome's darkest character 

Was in his shady forehead seen exprest : 

The forehead's shade in Griefe's expression there, 

Is what in signe of joy among the blest 

The face's lightning, or a smile is here. 

Those stings of care that his strong heart opprest, 
A desperate, Oh mee ! drew from his deepe brest. 


Oh mee ! (thus bellow'd he) Oh mee ! what great 
Portents before mine eyes their powers advance ? 
And serves my purer sight, onely to beat 
Downe my proud thought, and leave it in a trance ? 
Frowne I : and can gi'eat Nature keep her seat ? * 
And the gay starrs lead on their golden dance ? 
Can His attempts above still prosp'rous be, 
Auspicious still, in spight of Hell and me ? 


XXVI 1. 

Hee has my Heaven (what would He more 1) wliose 

AiiJ radiant scepter this bold hand should beare : 
And for the never-fading fields of light, 
My faire inheritance, He confines me here 
To this darke house of shades, horrour and night, 
To draw a long-liv'd death, where all my cheere 
Is the solemnity my sorrow weares. 
That mankind's torment waits upon my teares. 


Darke, dusky ^lan, He needs would single forth. 
To make the partner of His Owne pure ray : 
And shoidd we powers of Heav'n, spirits of worth. 
Bow our bright heads before a king of clay 1 
It shall not be, said I, and clombe the North, 
Where never wing of angell yet made way : 

What though I mist my blow 1 yet I strooke high, 
And to dare something, is some victory. 


Is He not satisfied ? meanes He to wrest 
HeU from me too, and sack my territories 1 
Vile humane nature means He not t' invest 
(0 my despight !) with His divinest glories? 
And rising with rich spoUes upon His brest 
With His faire triumphs fill all future stories ? 

^lust the bright armes of Heav'n, rebuke these eyes ? 

Mocke me, and dazle my darke mysteries ? 

VOL. I. p 

1 OG SOSPETTO d' herode. 


Art thou not Lucifer ? he to whom the droves 
Of stars that gild the Morne, in charge were given 1 
Tlie nimblest of the lightning- winged loves, 
The fairest, and the first-borne smile of Heav'n ? 
Looke in what pompe the mistrisse planet moves 
Rev'rently circled by the lesser seaven : 

Such, and so rich, the flames that from thine eyes, 
Opprest the common-people of the skyes. 


Ah wretch ! what bootes thee to cast back thy eyes, 
T^Tiere dawning hope no beame of comfort showes ? 
AMiile the reflection of thy forepast joyes. 
Benders thee double to thy present woes : 
Rather make up to thy new miseries, 
And meet the mischiefe that upon thee growes. 

If Hell must mourne, Heav'n sure shall sympathize, 
What force cannot effect, fraud shall devise. 


And yet whose force feare I ? have I so lost 
My selfe 1 my strength too ^vith my innocence ? 
Come try who dares, Heav'n, Earth, what ere doth boast 
A borrowed being, make thy bold defence. 
Come thy Creator too : "What though it cost 
Ale yet a second fall ? wee'd try our strengths : 
Heav'n saw us struggle once ; as brave a fight 
Earth now should see, and tremble at the sight. 



Tims spoke th' impatient prince, ani,! niaile a pause : 
His foule hags rais'd tlieii" heads, and cdapt their hands. 
And all the powers of Hell in full applause 
Flourisht their snakes, and tost their flaming brands. 
"We (said tlie horrid sisters) wait thy lawes, 
Th' obsequious handmaids of thy high couimands : 
Be it thy part, Hell's mighty lord, to lay 
On us thy dread command, our's to obey. 


What thy Alecto, what these hands can doe, 
Thou mad'st bold proofe upon the brow of Heav'n. 
Xor shoidd'st thou bate in pride, because that now 
To these thy sooty kingdomes thou art driven. 
Let Heav'n's Lord chide above lowder than thou 
In language of His thunder, thou art even 

With Him below : here thou art lord alone, 
Boundlesse and absolute : Hell is thine owue. 


If usuall wit, and strength wiU doe no good, 
Yertues of stones, nor herbes : use stronger charmes. 
Anger and love, best hookes of humane blood. 
If all faile, wee'l put on our proudest armes. 
And pouring on Heav'n's face the Sea's huge flood 
(Quench His cuxl'd fires : wee'l wake Avith our alarmes 
Ruine, where e're she sleepes at Nature's feet : 
And crush the World till His wide corners meet. 



Reply'd the proud kiug, O my cro^^me's defence, 
Stay of my strong hopes, you of whose brave worth, 
The frighted stars tooke faint experience, 
Wlien 'gainst the Thunder's mouth we marched forth : 
.Still you are prodigall of your Love's expence 
111 our great projects, both 'gainst Heav'n and luirth : 
I thanke you all, but one must single out : 
Cruelty, she alone shall cure my doubt. 


Fourth of the cursM knot of hags is shee, 

Or rather all the other three in one ; 

Hell's shop of slaughter shee do's oversee. 

And stni assist the execution. 

But chiefly there do's she delight to be, 

Where Hell's capacious cauldron is set on : 

And while the black soules boile in their own gore, 
To hold them down, and looke that none seeth o're. 

Thrice howl'd the caves of iXight, and thrice the sound, 
Tliundring upon the bankes of those black lakes, 
Eung through the hollow vaults of HeU profound : 
At last her listning eares the noise o're takes, 
She lifts her sooty lampes, and looking round, 
A gen'rall hisse from the whole tire of snakes 

Eebounding, through HeU's inmost cavernes came, 

111 answer to her formidable name. 



'Mongst all the palaces in Hell's command, 

No one so niercilcsse as this of lier's. 

The ailamautine doors, for ever stand 

Impenetrable, botli to prai'rs and teares ; 

The -walls inexorable Steele, no hand 

Of Time, or teeth of hungry Ruine feares. 

Their ugly ornaments are the bloody staines 

Of ragged limbs, torne sculls, and dasht-out braines. 


There has the purple Vengeance a proud seat 
Whose ever-brandisht sword is sheath'd in blood : 
About her Hate, Wrath, Warre and Slaughter sweat ; 
Batliing their hot limbs in life's pretious flood : 
There rude impetuous Ixage do's storme and fret. 
And there as master of this murd'ring brood. 

Swinging a huge sith stands impartial! Death : scythe 
With endlesse businesse almost out of breath. 


For hangings and for curtaines, all along 
The walls (abominable ornaments !) 
Are tooles of wrath, anvills of torments hung ; 
Fell executioners of foule intents, 
Xailes, hammers, hatchets sharpe, and halters strong. 
Swords, spearcs, Avith all the fatall instruments 
Of Sin and Death, twice dipt in the dire staines 
Of brothers' mutuall blood, anel fathers' braines. 



The tables furnish t with a cursed feast 

"Which Harpyes, with leane Famine feed upon, 

Vn6U'd for ever. Here among the rest, 

Inhumane Erisicthon too makes one ; 

Tantalus, Atreus, Progne, here are guests : 

Wolvish Lycaon here a place hath won. 

The cup they drinke in is ISIedusa's scull, 

Which mixtwith gall and blood theyquafife brim-full. 


The foule queen's most abhorred maids of honour, 
IMedsea, Jezabell, many a meager witch, 
With Circe, Scylla, stand to wait upon her : 
But her best huswife's are the Parcie, which 
Still worke for her, and have their wages from her : 
They prick a bleeding heart at every stitch. 

Her cruell cloathes of costly threds they weave, 
Which short-cut lives of murdred infants leave. 


The house is hers'd about with a black wood, hearsed 
Which nods with many a heavy-headed tree : 
Each flowers a pregnant poyson, try'd and good. 
Each herbe a plague. The wind's sighes timed bee 
By a black foimt, w^hich weeps into a flood. 
Through the thick shades obscurely might you sec 
^liuotaures, Cyclopses, with a ilarke drove 
Of Dragons, Hydraes, Sphinxes, fill the grove. 



Here Diomed's horses, Phereiis' ilogs appeare, 

With the fierce lyons of Tlierodaraas. 

Busiris has his bloody altar here : 

Here Sylla his severest prison lias : 

The Lestrigonians here their table reare : 

Here strong Procrustes plants his bed of brasse : 
Here cruell Scyron boasts his bloody rockes 
And hatefull Schinis his so feared oakes. 


\Vhat ever schemes of blood, fantastick Frames 

Of death, Mezentius or Geryon drew ; 

Phalaris, Oclms, Ezelinus : names 

Mighty in mischiefe ; with dread Nero too ; 

Here are they all, here all the swords or flames 

Assyrian tyi-ants or Egyptian knew. 

Such was the house, so furnisht was the hall, 
Wlience the fourth Fury answer'd Pluto's call. 


Scarce to this monster could the shady king 
The horrid siunme of his intentions tell ; 
But shee (swift as the momentary ^ving 
Of lightning, or the words he spoke) left Hell. 
She rose, and with her to our World did bring 
Pale proofe of her fell presence ; th' aire too well 
With a chang'd countenance witnest the sight, 
And poore fowles intercepted in their flight. 



Heav'n saw her rise, and saw Hell in the sight : 
The fields' faire eyes saw her, and saw no more, 
But shut their flo^\Ty lids for ever : Kight 
And Winter strow her way : yea, such a sore 
Is she to Nature, that a generall fright. 
An universal palsie spreading o're 

The face of things, from her dire eyes had run, 
Had not her thick snakes hid them from the sun. 


Now had the Night's companion from her dew, 
Where all the busie day she close doth ly, 
With her soft wing wipt from the browes of men 
Day's sweat ; and by a gentle tyranny 
And sweet oppression, kindly cheating them 
Of all their cares, tam'd the rebellious eye 
Of Sorrow, with a soft and downy hand, 
Sealing all brests in a Lethfean band. 


When the Erinnys her black pineons spread, 
And came to Bethlem, where the cruell king 
Had now retyr'd himselfe, and borrowed 
His brest a while from Care's unquiet sting ; 
Such as at Thebes' dire feast she shew'd her head, 
Her sidphur-breathed torches brandishing : 
Such to the frighted palace now she comes. 
And with soft feet searches the silent roomes. 


By Ilorod . now was borne 

The scepter, whicli of old great David swaid ; 
"Whose riglit by David's linage so long worne, Jlneugc 
Uiiuselfe a stranger to, his owne had made ; 
And from the head of Judah's house (juite toi'no 
The crowne, for which upon their necks he laid 
A sad yoake, under whicli they sigh'd in vaino. 
And looking on their lost state sigh'd againe. 

LI I. 

Vp, through the spatious pallace passfed she. 
To where the king's proudly-reposed head 
(If any can be soft to Tyranny 
And sclfe-tormenting sin) had a soft bed. 
She tlxinkes not fit, such, he her face should see, 
As it is scene in Hell, and seen with dread. 
To change her face's stile she doth devise, 
And in a pale ghost's shape to spare his eyes. 


Her selfe a while she layes aside, and makes 

Ready to personate a mortall part. 

loseph, the king's dead brother's shape, she takes : 

What he by nature was, is she by art. 

She comes to th' king, and with her cold hand slakes 

His spirits (the sparkes of life) and chills his heart. 
Life's forge ; fain'd is her voice, and false too, be 
Her words : ' sleep'st thou, fond man? sleep'st thouf 
said she. 

VOL. I. Q 



So sleeps a pilot, whose pooro barke is prest 
"With many a mercylesse o're-mastring wave ; 
For whom (as dead) the wrathfull winds contest 
Which of them deep'st shaU digge her watry grave. 
^Yhy dost thou let thy brave soule lye supprest 
In death-like slumbers, while thy dangers crave 
A waking eye and hand ? looke vp and see 
The Fates ripe, in their great conspiracy. 


Know'st thou not how of th' Hebrewes' royall stemme 
(That old dry stocke) a despair'd branch is sprung : 
A most strange Babe ! Who here conceal'd by them 
In a neglected stable lies, among 
Beasts and base straw : Already is the streame 
Quite turn'd : th' ingi-atefull rebells, this their young 
Master (with voyce free as the trumpe of Fame) 
Their new King, and thy Successonr proclamo. 


What busy motions, what wild engines stand 
On tiptoe in their giddy braynes ! th' have fire 
Already in their bosomes, and their hand 
Already reaches at a sword ; they hire 
Poysons to speed thee ; yet through all the Land 
What one comes to rcveale what they conspire] 

Goe now, make much of these ; wage still their ware 
And bring home on thy brest, more thanklesse scarrs. 

SOSrKTTO !•' IIKKOUK. 11.") 


Why dill I spend my life, and spill my blood, 
That thy firme hand for ever might sustaino 
A well-pois'd scepter ? does it now seeme good 
Thy brother's blood be spilt, life spent in value I 
'Gainst thy ownc sons and brothers thou hast stood 
In arraes, when lesser cause was to complaine : 

And now crosse Fates a watch about thee keepe, 
Can'st thou be carelesse now ? now can'st thou sleep? 


Where ai't thou man 1 what cowardly mistake 
Of thy great selfe, hath stolne king Herod from thee ? 
call thy selfe home to thy self, wake, wake, 
And fence the hanging sword Heav'n throws upon thee. 
Kedeeme a worthy wrath, rouse thee, and shake 
Thy selfe into a shape that may become thee. 
Be Herod, and thou shalt not misse from mee 
Iramortall stings to thy great thoughts, and thee. 


So said, her richest snake, which to her wrist 

For a beseeming bracelet she had ty'd 

(A speciall worme it was as ever kist 

The foamy lips of Cerberus) she apply'd 

To the king's heart : the snake no sooner hist, 

But Vertue heard it, and away she hy'd : 

Dire flames diffuse themselves through every veine : 
This done, home to her Hell she hy'd amaine. 



He wakes, and with him (ne're to sleepe) new feares : 
His sweat-bedewed bed hath now betraid him 
To a vast field of thornes ; ten thousand speares 
All pointed in his heart seem'd to invade him : 
So mighty were th' amazing characters 
With which his feeling dreame had thus dismay'd him, 
He his owne fancy-framed foes defies : 
In rage, My armes, give me my amies, he cryes. 


As when a pUe of food-preparing fire, 
The breath of artificiall lungs embraves. 
The caldron-prison'd waters streight conspire 
And beat the hot brasse with rebellious waves ; 
He murmurs, and rebukes their bold desire ; 
Th' impatient liquor frets, and foames, and raves. 
Till his o're-flowing pride suppresse the flame 
Whence all his higli spirits and hot courage came. 


So boyles the fii-ed Herod's blood-swoLae brest, 
Xot to be slak't but by a sea of blood : 
His faithlesse croAvne he feeles loose on his crest, 
AVhich a false tjTant's head ne're firmely stood. 
The worme of jealous envy and unrest 
To which his gnaw'd heart is the growing food, 
Llakes him, impatient of the lingring light. 
Hate the sweet peace of all-composiiig Xight. 



A thousanil prophecies tliat talko strange things 
I lad sowne of oki these doubts in his deepe brest. 
And now of late came tributary kings, 
Bringing him nothing but new feares from th' East, 
^lore deepe suspicions, and more deadly stings, 
AVith which liis feav'rous cares their cold increast. 
And now his dream (Hel's fireband) still more bright, 
Shew'd him his feares, and kill'd him with the sight. 


Xo sooner therefore shall the ]\Iorning see 
(Night hangs yet heavy on the lids of Day) 
But all the counsellours must summon'd bee. 
To meet their troubled lord : without delay 
Heralds and messengers immediately 
Are sent about, who poasting every way 
To th' heads and officers of every band, 
Declare who sends, and what is his command. 


AVhy art thou troubled, Herod? what vaine feare 
Thy blood-revolving brest to rage doth move 1 
Heaven's King, Wlio doifs Himselfe weak flesh to weare. 
Comes not to rule in wrath, but serve in love. 
Nor would He this thy fear'd crown from thee tearo. 
But give thee a better with Himselfe above. 
Poor jealousie ! why should He wish to prey 
Vpon thy crowne, "Who gives His ownc away ■? 



Make to thy reason, luau, and mock thy doubts, 
Looke how below thy feares their causes are ; 
Tliou art a souldier, Herod ; send thy scouts, 
See how Hee's fumish't for so fear'd a warre ? 
AVhat armour does He weare 1 A few thin clouts. 
His trumpets 1 tender cries ; His men to dare 

So much I rude shejjheards : what His steeds ? alas 
Poore beasts I a slow oxe and a simple asse. 

II tine del jrrlmo Libra. 


See our Essay for critical remarks on the original and Cba- 
suAw's intei-in-etation. These things may be recorded : 

St. viii. line 6. ' (His shop of flames) he fries himself." 
This verb ' fries,' like ' stick' and some others, had not in EKza- 
bethau times and later, that colloquial, and therefore in such 
a context ludicrous, sound that it has to us. In Maklowe's 
or Joxson's translation of Ovid's fifteenth elegy (book i.) the 
two lines which originally ran thus, 

' Loftv Lucretius sliall livo that hour 
That Nature shall dissolve this earthlj bower," 

were afterwards altered by Jossos himself to, 
' Then shall Lucretius" lofty numbers die. 
When earth and seas in fire and flame shall /ri*.' 
In another way one of our most ludicrous-serious experiences 
of printers' eiTors was in a paper contributed by ns to an Ame- 
rican religious perioilical. The subject was Affliction, and we 
remarked that God stUl, as of old with the ' three childi-en' (so- 
called) permits His people to be put into the fm-nace of ' fiery 
trials," wherein He tries them whether they be ore or di-oss. 
To our honor we found the t changed into f, and so read sensa- 
tionally '/r(ts' — all the worse that some might think it the 
author"s own word. 

St. xxviii. and xxx. The star Lucifer orPhosporos, to whom 
' the thoves of stars that guild the morn, in charge were given," 


can ueriT climl) the North or rcnch the zenith, beiiiK eonciuered 
l>y the ettul-jenoe of the sun of (hiy. Wlien did the fable of the; 
anjjel Lucifer, founded on an astronomical appearance, minfjle 
itself as it has done here, and gi-andly in INIilton, and in the 
popular mind generally, with the biblical histoi-j' of Satan ? 

St. xxxvi. line 2. Turnbull perpetuates the misprint of 
' whose' for ' my" from 1670. 

St. li. line 3, ' linage' - ' lineage.' For once 1670 is correct 
in reading ' linage' for the misprint ' image' of 1646 and 1648. 
The original is literally as follows : 

' Herod the liege of Auftnstus, a man now aged, 
nion ruleil over the royal eourts of David : " 
Xot of the royal line . . . .' 

St. lix. line 3, ' a special worm :' so Shakespeare (Ant. and 
Cleopatra, v. 2), ' the pretty worm' and ' the worm.' 

St. Ix. Every one will be reminded of the tent-scene in 
Richard III. 

At end of this translation PKiiR(!RiNE Phillips adds 'cetera 
desunt — hen ! heu !' 

Marino and Crasoaw have left proper names in the poem un- 
annotated. They are mostly trite ; but these may be noticed : st. 
xHi. 1. 4, Erisichton (see Ovid, Met. viii. 814 ifec); he ofl'endcd 
Ceres, and was by her punished with continual hunger, so that he 
devoured his own Umbs : line 5, Tantalus the fabled son of Zeus 
and Pluto, whose doom in the ' lower world,' has been cele- 
brated from Homer (Od. xi. 582j onward : ib. Atreus, grandson of 
Tantalus, immortalised in infamy with his brother Thyestes : ib. 
Progue = Procne, wife of Tereus, who was metamorphosed into 
a swallow (ApoUod. iii. 14, 8) : 1. 6, Lycaon, like Tantalus, with 
bis sons changed by Zeus into wolves (Ovid ; Paus. \iii. 3, § 1) : 
st. xliii. line 2, Medea, most famous of the mythical sorcerers : 
ib. Jezebel, 2 Kings ix. 10, 36 : line 3, Cii'ce, another mythical 
soi'ceress : Scylla, daughter of Typho and rival of Circe, who 
transformed her (Ovid, Met. xiv. "1-74); cf. Paradise Lost: 
line 4, the ParcnD=::the Fates, ever spinning: st. xliv. lines 7-8, 
all classic monsters: st. xlv. line 1, ' Diomed's horses'^^the 
fabled ' mares' fed on human flesh (Apollod. ii. 5, § 8) : ' Phe- 
reus' dogs,' or Fereus of mj'thical celebrity : line 2, Theroda- 
mas or Theromedon, king of Scythia, who fed lions with human 
blood (Ovid, Ibis 385, Pout. i. 2, 121) : line 3, Busiris, associ- 
ated with Osiris of Egypt ; hut Herodotus denies that the Eg;\-p- 



tiane ever offered human sacrifices : line 4, Sylla = Sulla : line 
o, Lestrigonians, ancient inhabitants of SicUy who fed on hu- 
man flesh (Ovid, Met. xiv. 233, &c.) : line 6, Procrustes, i.e. the 
Stretcher, being a surname of the famous robber Damastes 
(Ovid, Met. vii. 438) : line 7, Scyron, or Sciion (Ovid, Met. vii. 
444-147), who threw his captives from the rocks : line 8, Schinis, 
more accurately Sinis or Sinnis, a celebrated robber, his name 
bein" connected with aivofiai, expressing the manner in which he 
tore his victims to pieces by tying them to branches of two 
trees, which he bent together and then let go (Ovid, Met. vii. 
440) ; according to some he was sumamedPi-ocmstes, but Map-ino 
and Crashaw distinguish the two : st. xlvi. line 2, Mezentins, a 
mythical king of the Etrascans (Vii-gD, .Eneid, viii. 480, &c.) ; 
he put men to death by tying them to a coi-pse : ib. Geryon, a 
fabulous king of Hesperia (Apollod. ii. 5, ^ 10); under this 
name the vei-y reverend Dr. J. H. Newman has composed one 
of his most remarkable poems : line 3, Phalaiis, the tyrant of 
Sicily, whose ' brazen bull" of tortui-e gave point to Cicero's 
words coneeming him, as ' ci-udelissimus omnium tyi-annonim" 
(in Yen-, iv. 33) : ib. Oehus = Artaxerees III. a merciless king 
of Persia: ib. Ezelinus or Ezzelinus, another wicked tyrant. 



Eooc (Wilis Angelonini, 
Adoro t<'. 

With all tlic povvres my poor heart hath i 

Of huinblo loue and loyall faith, 
Tims lowc (my hidden life I) I bow to Thee 
Whom too much loue hath how'd more low for me. 
Down, down, proud Sense ! discourses dy ! 5 

Keep close, my soul's inquiring ey ! 
Xor touch, nor tast, must look for more 
But each sitt still in his o^ti dore. 

Your ports are all superfluous here, 
Saue that which lets in Faith, the eare. 10 

Faith is my skill : Faith can beleiue 
As fast as Loue new lawes can giue. 
Faith is my force : Faith strength affords 
To keep pace with those poMTfull words. 
And words more sure, more sweet then they, 1 5 

Loue could not think, Truth could not say. 

let Thy ■wretch find that releife 
Thou didst afford the faithful theife. 

' Appeared first in 'Steps' of 1&18 (pp. 74-75) : was reprinted in 
1652 (pp. 66.fi0) and 1670 (pp. 185-187). Our text is that of 1652 : 
but see Xotes and Illustrations at close of the poem, and our Essay 
for critical remarks. The eni;raving of 16.V2 is reproducetl in our 
illustrated quarto edition. G. 

vor.. I. li 


Plead for me, Loue ! ulleagc and show 

That Faith has farther here to goe 20 

And lesse to lean on : because than ilien 

Thougli hidd as God, wounds with Thee man : 

Thomas might touch, none but might sec 

At least the suffring side of Tliee ; 

And that too was Thy self which Thee did couer, 25 

l]ut hero eu'n that's liid too which hides the other. 

Sweet, consider then, that 1 
Though allow'd nor hand nor eye 
To reach at Thy lou'd face ; nor can 
Tast Thee God, or touch Thee man, 30 

Both yet beleiue ; and witnesse Thee 
My Lord too and my God, as lowd as he. 

Help, Lord, my faith, my hope increase, 
^\.nd fill my portion in Thy jjeace : 
Giue loue for life ; nor let my daj'es 35 

Grow, but in new jwwres to Thy name and jiraise. 

O dear memoriall of that Death 
Which liues still, and allowes vs breath I 
Eich, royall food ! Bountyfull bread ! 
Whose vse denyes vs to the dead ; 40 

Whose vitall gust alone can giue 
The same leaue both to eat and liue ; 
Line euer bread of loues, and be 
My life, my soul, my surer-selfe to mee. 

O soft self- wounding Pelican ! 45 

A^liose brest wcepes balm for wounded man : 

TllK HYMN OK SAINTE Tlll>M.VSi. 123 

All ! this way 1)l'1u1 Thy beuigu Uoiul 

To a bleeding heart that gaspes for blood. 

That blood, whose least drojis sovicraigu l)c 

To wash my worlds of sins from me. 50 

Come Loue I come Lord I and that long day 

For which I languish, come away. 

When this dry soul those eyes shall see, 

Anil iliiuk the vnseal'd sourse of Thee : 

When Glory's sun, Faith's shades shall chase, 55 

And for Thy veil giuo mc^ Thy face. Amen. 


The original title is 'A Hymue to our Saviour liy the Fiiith- 
fuU Receiver of the Sacrameut.' As before iu the title of ' The 
Weeper' ' Saiutc" is mis-spelled ' Sanite." 

Liue 1 in 1(U8 reads ' power.' 
,, 8, ' sitt still iu his owu dore." 

,, 9, ' ports' ~ openings or gates. So in EdiubiU'gh the 
' West-port' = a gate of the city in the old west wall. 

Line 21, ' than' = 'then.' See our Phikeas Fletcher, as 

Line 29, Tdrnbull leaves undetected the 1670 misprint of 
' teach' for ' reach.' 

Liue 33, 1G4B supplies ' my faith,' which in our text is in- 
advertently dropped ; 1670 continues the eri'or, which of course 
TcENBULL repeated. 

Line 36, 1670 edition reads ' Grow, but in new pow'rs to 
name thy Pi-aise.' 

Lines 37-38 arc inadvertently omitted in 1618 edition. 

Our test, as wUl be seen, is aiTanged iu stanzas of irregular 
form. In 1648 edition it is one continuous poem thus printed : 




Rise, royall Sion ! rise and sing 
Thy soul's kind sheplieard, thy hart's King. 
Stretch all tliy powres ; call if you can 
Harpes of heann to hands of man. 
This soueraign subject sitts aboue 
The best ambition of thy loue. 

Lo, the Bread of Life, this day's 
Triumphant text, prouokes thy prayse : incites 
The lining and life-giuing bread 
To the great twelue distributed ; 
"NMien Life, Himself, at point to dy 
Of loue, was His Own legacy. 

Come, Loue I and let vs work a song 
Lowd and pleasant, sweet and long ; 
Let lippes and hearis lift high the noise 
Of so iust and solemn ioyes, 
"Which on His white browes this bright day 
Shall hence for euer bear away. 

1 Appeared originally iu 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 76-78), where the 
title is 'A Hymne on the B. Sacrament:" reprinted in 1652 (pp. 70- 
73) and 1670 (pp. 187-100). Our text is that of 1652 ; but see Notes 
at close of the poem. G. 



Lo, the new law of a new Lord, 
With a new Lamb blesses the board : 
The aged Pascha pleads not yeares 
But spyes Loue's dawn, and disappeares. 
Types yield to truthes ; shades shrink away ; 
^Vnd their Night dyes into onr Day. 


But lest that dy too, we are bid 
Euer to doe what He once did : 
And by a mindfull, mystick breath 
That we may Hue, reuiue His death ; 
With a well-bles't bread and wine, 
Transsum'd and taught to turn diuine. 


The Heaun-instructed house of Faith 
Here a holy dictate hath. 
That they but lend their form and face ; — 
Themselues with reuerence leaue their place, 
Nature, and name, to be made good, 
By a nobler bread, more needfidl blood. 


Where Nature's lawes no leaue will giue. 
Bold Faith takes heart, and dares beleiue 
In different species : name not things. 
Himself to me my Saviovr brings ; 


As meat in that, as drink in this, 
But still in "both one Christ He is. 


The receiuing mouth here makes 
Nor wound nor breach in what he takes. 
Let one, or one thovsand he 
Here diuiders, single he 
Beares home no lesse, all they no more, 
Xor leaue they both lesse then before. 


Though in it self this soA-erain Feast 
Be all the same to euery guest. 
Yet on tlie same (Ufe-meaning) Bread 
The child of death eates himself dead : 
Xor is't Loue's fault, but Sin's dire skill 
That thus from Life can death distUl. 


Wlien the blest signes thou broke shall sec 
Hold but thy faith intire as He 
"Who, howsoe're clad, cannot come 
Lesse then whole Christ in euery cmmmc. 
In broken formes a stable Faith 
Vntouch't her precious totall hath. 


So the life-food of angells then 
Bow'd to the lowlv mouths of men ! 


Tho lIuWiou's Ihvad, tlic I hulcgroom's Wino ; 
Xot to bo cast to dogges, or swiuc. 


Lo, the lull, tiuall Sacrifice 
On which all hgures fix't their eyes : 
The ransom'd Isack, and his ranime ; 
The manna, and the paschal lamb. 


lesv blaster, iust and true ! 
(3ur food, and faithfull Shephard too ! 
O by Thy self vouchsafe to keep, 
As with Thy selfe Thou feed'st Thy sheep. 


O let that loue which thus makes Thee 
^lix with our low mortality, 
Lift our lean soulcs, and sett vs vp 
Con-victors of Thine Own full cup, 
Coheirs of saints. That so all may 
Drink the same wine ; and the same way : 
Xor change the pastvre, but the place, 
To feed of Thee, in Thine Own face. Amen. 

In 1648, line 3 bas ' thou' for ' you :' line 4 ' and' for ' to :' 
line 6, 'ambitious:' line 19, 'Lord' is misprinted ' Law:' line 
39, 'names:' line 4'2 spells 'one' as 'on:' line .'55, our text 
(16.'j2) misprints ' sball :' lino 75, 1048 reads ' moan' for ' loan.' 



Lo here a little volume, but great Look ! 

(Feare it not, sweet, 

It is no hipocrit) 
Much larger in itselfe then in its looke. 

A nest of new-born sweets ; 

Whose natiue fires disdaining 

To ly thus folded, and complaining 

Of these ignoble sheets, 

Afiect more comly bands 

(Fair one) from tliy kind hands ; 

And confidently look 

To find the rest 
Of a rich binding in your brest. 
It is, in one clioise handfull, Heauvn ; and all 
Heaun's royall host ; incampt thus small 



1 Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1640 (pp. 74-78), where it is 
headed ' On a prayer booke .sent to Mrs. M. R. :' was reprinted in 1{)48 
(pp. 78-82). where the title differs from that of lGy-2 (pp. 1(18. 112) in 
leaving out 'Prayer' and ' little,' and in 1670 as in 1G4G. Our text 
is that of 1652 ; but see Notes and Illustrations at close and on 
M. R. in our Essav. G. 

PRAYKR. 129 

To pi'ouc that true, Schooles vse to tell, 

Ten tliousand angels in one point can dwell. 

It is Loue's great artillery 

Which here contracts it self, and comes to ly 19 

Close-couch't in your wliite bosom ; and from thence 

As from a snowy fortresse of defence, 

Against the ghostly foes to take your part, 

And fortify the hold of your chast heart. 

It is an armory of light ; 

Let constant vse but keep it bright, 25 

You'l find it yields 
To liolj' hands and liumble hearts 

More swords and sheilds 
Then sin hath snares, or Hell hath darts. 

Only be sure 30 

The hands be pure 
That hold these weapons ; and the eyes 
Those of turtles, chast and true ; 

Wakefull and wise : 
Here is a freind shall fight for you ; 35 

Hold but this book before your heart. 
Let prayer alone to play his part ; 

But the heart 

That studyes this high art 

Must be a sure house-keeper : 40 

And yet no sleeper. 

Dear soul, be strong ! 

Mercy will come e're long 
vor.. I. s 

130 PKAYER. 

And bring his bosome fraught with blessings, 

Flowers of neuer-fading graces 45 

To make immortall dressings 

For worthy soules, whose wise embraces 

Store vp themselues for Him, Who is alone 

The Spovse of virgins and tlie virgin's Son. 

But if the noble Bridegroom, Avhen He come, 50 

Shall find the loytering heart from home ; 

Leauing her chast aboad 

To gadde abroad 
Among the gay mates of the god of flyes ; 
To take her pleasure, and to play 55 

And keep the deuill's holyday; 
To dance in th' sunshine of some smiling 

But beguiling 
Spheare of sweet and sugred lyes ; 

Some slippery pair 60 

Of false, perhaps, as fair. 
Flattering but forswearing, eyes ; 
Doubtlesse some other heart 

WUl gett the start 
Meanwhile, and stepping in before 65 

WUl take possession of that sacred store 
Of hidden sweets and holy ioyes ; 
"Words wliich are not heard with eares 
(Those tumultuous shops of noise) 
Effectuall whispers, whose stUl voice 70 

The soul it selfe more feeles then heares ; 



Amorous languisluueuts ; luminous trances ; 

Siglits which arc not seen with eyes ; 

Spiritual! and soul-peircing glances 

AVTiose pure and subtil lightning flyes 7 5 

Home to the heart, and setts the house on fire, 

And melts it down in sweet desire 

Yet doth not stay 
To ask the windows' leaue, to passe that way ; 
Delicious deaths ; soft exalations 80 

Of soul ; dear and diuine anniliilations ; 

A thousand vnknown rites 
Of ioyes and rarefy'd delights ; 
A hundred thousand goods, glories, and graces : 

And many a mystick thing 85 

Which the diuine embraces 
Of the deare Spouse of spirits, with them will bring. 

For which it is no shame 
That dull mortality must not know a name. 

Of all this hidden store 90 

Of blessings, and ten thousand more 

(If when He come 

He find the heart from home) 

Doubtlesse He will vnload 

Himself some other where, 95 

And poure abroad 

His pretious sweets 
On the fair soul whom first He meets, 
n fair, O fortunate ! riche ! dear ! 

132 PKAYEB. 

O hai:)py and thrice-liapjjy she loo 

iJeare silver-breasted dove 

Who ere she be, 

Whose early loue 

With winged vowes 
Makes hast to meet her morning Spouse, 1 05 

And close with His immortall kisses. 
Happy indeed, who neuer misses 
To improue that pretious hour, 

And euery day 

Seize her sweet prey, 1 1 o 

AH fresh and fragrant as He rises, 
Dropping with a bavdmy showr, 
A delicious dew of spices ; 
O let the blissfull heart hold it fast 
Her heaunly arm-full ; she shall tast * 115 

At once ten thousand paradises ; 

She shall haue power 

To rifle and deflour 
The rich and roseall spring of those rare sweets 
Which with a swelling bosome there she meets : 120 

Boundles and infinite 

Bottomles treasures 

Of pure inebriating pleasures. 
Happy proof ! she shal discouer 

What ioy, what blisse, 125 

How many heau'ns at once it is 
To haue her God become her Lover. 

I'UAYKK. 133 


The text of 1648 correspoiuls pretty closely, except iu the 
usual chaurfcs of ortliogi'apby, with om- text (1652) : and 1670, 
iu like mauner, follows that of 1646. 1646 edition furnishes 
some noticeable variations : 

Line 1, ' large' for ' gi-eat.' 
„ 2-4 restored to their place here. Tuknbull gives them 
in a foot-note with this remark : ' So in the Paris edition of 
1652. In all the others, 

Fear it not, sweet, 
It is no hypocrite. 
Much larger in itself, than in its book.' 

This is a mistake. The only edition that omits the lines (5-13) 
besides the first (1646) and substitutes these three is that of 1670. 
Lines 5-13 not in 1646 edition : first appeared in 1648 edition. 
,, 14, ' choise' for ' rich.' 
,, 15, ' boasts' for ' host.' 
„ 17, ' Ten thousand.' 

,, 20. Om- text (1652) here and elsewhere misreads 'their:' 
silently corrected. 

Line 22. Our text (1652) misprints ' their' for ' the :' as 
' the' is the reading of 164S and 1670, I have adopted it. 
Line 24, ' the' for ' an.' 
,, 27, ' band' for ' bands.' 
,, 37, 1648 edition has ' its' for ' his.' 
,, 44. Oui" text (1652) oddly misprints ' besom' for ' bo- 
some :' the latter reading in 1646, 1648 and 1670 ^indicates 
itself. 1646 reads ' her' and 1648 ' its' for ' his.' 
Line 50, ' comes' for ' come.' 
,, 51, ' wandring' for 'loytering." 

,, 54. The allusion is to one of the names of Satan, viz. 
Baal-zebnb = fly-god, dunghill-god. 
Line 55, ' pleasures.' 
,, 57. Our text (1652) inadvertently drops ' in.' 1648 
has ' i' th'.' 

Line 59. Our text misprints ' spheares : ' 1648 adopts 
' spheare' from 1646 edition. 1670 misprints ' spear.' 
Line 62, ' forswearing :' a classic word. 
,, 64, ' git' is the spelling. 

,, 65. All the editions save oiu- text (1652) omit ' mean- 


Line 66, ' the' for ' that.' 
,, 69, ' These' for ' Those,' by mistake. 
,, 78, ' doth' for ' does' I have adopted here. 
„ 83, 1648, by misprint, has ' O' for ' Of.' 
,, 84, ' An hundi-ed thoasand loves and gi-aces.' 
,, 90. I have accepted ' hidden' before ' store' from 1646 

Line 101. I have also adopted this characteristic line from 
1646 edition. In all the others (except 1670J it is ' Selected 

Line 107, ' soule' for 'indeed.' 
„ 114, ' that' for ' the.' 

,, 121-122. In 1648 printed as supra, the lines probably 
indicating a blank where the ms. was illegible. In oui- test 
(1652J we have two lines, but no blank indicated. 
Line 124, ' soul' for ' proof.' 
„ 127, ' a' for ' her.' G. 



Dear, Heaun-designed sovl ! i 

Amongst the rest 
Of suters that be.seige youi' maiden hrest, 

WTiy may not I 

My fortune try ^ 

And venture to speak one good word, 
Iv'ot for my self, alas ! but for my dearer Lord? 
You have seen allready, in tliis lower sphear 
Of froth and bubbles, what to look for here : 

' Appeared originally in ' Steps' of 1648 (pp. 82-84), and was re- 
printed in 1670 (pp. 198-200). Our text is that of 1648; but see 
Notes and Illustrations at close of the poem. G. 


Say, gentle soul, Avliat can you find lo 

But painted shapes, 

Peacocks and apes ; 

Illustrious flyes, 
Guilded dunghills, glorious lyes ; 

Goodly surmises 15 

And deep disguises, 
Oathes of water, words of ^vind 1 
Trvth biddes me say 'tis time you cease to trust 
Your soul to any son of dust. 
'Tis time you listen to a brauer loue, 20 

Wliich from aboue 

Calls you v]} liigher 

And biddes you come 

And choose your roome 
Among His own fair sonnes of fire ; .^5 

Where you among 

The golden throng 
That watches at His palace doores 

May passe along. 
And foUow those fair starres of your's ; 30 

Starrs much too fair and pure to wait vpon 
The false smiles of a sublunary sun. 
Sweet, let me prophesy that at last t'will proue 

Your wary loue 
Layes vp his purer and more pretious vowes, 35 

And meanes them for a farre more worthy Spovse 


Then tliis World of Ij-es can giue ye : 

Eu'n for Him with Whom nor cost, 

Nor loue, nor labour can be lost ; 

Him Who neuer will deceiue ye. 40 

Let not my Lord, the mighty Louer 

Of soules, disdain that I discouer 

The hidden art 
Of His high stratagem to mn your heart : 

It was His heaunly art 45 

Kindly to cross you 

In your mistaken loue ; 

That, at the next remoue 
- Thence, He might tosse you 

And strike your troubled heart 50 

Home to Himself ; to hide it in His brest : 

The bright ambrosiall nest 
Of Loue, of life, and euerlasting rest. 

Happy mystake ! 

That thus shall wake 55 

Your wise soul, neuer to be wonne 
Now ynih. a loue below the sun. 
Your first choyce failes ; O when you choose agen 
May it not be amongst the sonnes of men. 


The first line, ' To Mistress M. R. 

Dear, Tleav'n-rtcsigticd soul,' 
as in 1670, is not to be considered as an unvh.-STned line, but as 


the luKlross or siiperscriptiou, though so contrivod as uot to in- 
terfere with the metre, but to make a five-foot Hue with the two 
feet of the trae tirst liue of the poem. So ParolleB prefaces 
his verse with 

' Diaa, the count's a fool and full of gold.' 

(All's Well l/iat ends Well,\y.:i.) 

and Longaville (Love's Labour Lost) preH.xes to his sonnet, 

' O sweet Maria, empress of my love.' 
In fact, it is the ' Madam' of a poetical epistle brought into 
metrical harmonv with the verse. G. » 



No roofes of gold o're riotous tables shining r 

AVTiole dayes and suns, deuour'd with endlesse dining. 

No sailes of Tyrian sylk, proud pauements sweeping, 

Nor iuory couches costlyer slumber keeping ; 

False lights of flairing gemmes ; tumultuous ioyes ; 5 

Halls full of flattering men and frisking boj-^es ; 

"What'ere false showes of short and slippery good 

Mix the mad sons of men in mutuall blood. 

But walkes, and vnshom woods ; and soules, iust so 

Vnforc't and genuine ; but not shady tho. i o 

Our lodgings hard and homely as our fare, 

That chast and cheap, as the few clothes we Aveare. 

^ Appeared originally in 'Steps" of 16-18 (pp. 84-5): reprinted in 
1652 (pp. 121-2) and 1670 (pp. 204-.5). Our text is that of 1652, as 
before ; but see Notes at close of the poem. G. 

VOIi. I. T 


Those, course and negligent, as the naturall lockes 

Of these loose groues ; rough as th' vnpolish't rockes. 

A hasty portion of prajscribed sleep ; 1 5 

Obedient slumbers, that can wake and weep, 

And sing, and sigh, and work, and sleep again ; 

Still rowling a round spear of still-returning pain. 

Hands full of harty labours ; paines that pay 

And prize themselves : doe much, that more they may, 20 

And work for work, not wages ; let to-morrow's 

Kew droits, wash off the sweat of this daye's sorrows. 

A long and dayly-dying life, which breaths 

A respiration of reuiuing deaths. 

But neither are there those ignoble stings 25 

That nip the blossome of the World's best things, 

And lash Earth-labouring souls. ..... 

2^0 cruell guard of diligent cares, that keep 
CroAvn'd woes awake, as things too -svise for sleep : 
But reuerent discipline, and religious fear, 30 

And soft obedience, find sweet biding here ; 
Silence, and sacred rest ; peace, and pure ioyes ; 
Kind loues keep house, ly close, make no noise ; 
And room enough for monarchs, while none swells 
Beyond the kingdomes of contentfull cells. 35 

The self-remembring sovl sweetly recouers 
Her kindred with the starrs ; not basely houers 
Below : but meditates her immortall way 
Home to the originall sourse of Light and intellectuall 

ON MH. (iKoiuiic iikuhkht's BOOKK. 1."39 


In 1648 the heading is simply ' Descrii)tion of a religious 
house.' The original occurs in Bauclay'.s Argeiiis, book v. 
These variations include one important correction of a long- 
standing blunder : 

Line 3, 1648 misprints ' weeping' for ' sweeping.' 
„ 4, ' costly' for ' costlyer.' 
,, 6, ' flatt'ring' for ' flattering.' 

„ 19-20. Our text (1652), followed by 1670, strangely con- 
fuses this couplet by printing, 

' Hands full of liarty labours ; doe much, that more tliey may.' 
Ti'RNBULL, as usual, nnintelligently repeats the blunder. Even 
in using the text of 165'2 exceptionally, if only he found it con- 
firmed by 1670, there was no vigilance. The reading of 1648 
puts all right. 

Line "23. Om- text misspells ' ding.' 
,, 26. Misprinted ' bosome' in all the editions, and per- 
petuated by TuRNBULL. Line 27 that follows is a break (un- 

Line 33. 1648 misreads 'keep no noise.' G. 



Know you, faire, on what you looke ] i 

Divinest love; lyes in this booke : 
Expecting fier from your faire eyes, 
To kindle this his sacrifice. 

' Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 {p. 78): reprinted in edi- 
tions of 1648 (pp. 88-it) and 1670 (p. 6U). Our text is that of 1648, 
with a few adopted readings as noted onward. See our Essay on 
Crashaw's relation to Herbert. In the S.vxcrokt ms. the heading 


When your liands untie these strings, 5 

Think, yo' have an angell by the wings ; 

One that gladly would be nigh, 

To waite upon each morning sigh ; 

To flutter in the balmy aire 

Of your well-perfumt'd praier ; 10 

These white plumes of his hee'l lend you, 

\VTiich every day to Heaven will send you : 

To take acquaintance of each spheare, 

And all your smooth-fac'd kindred there. 

And though Herbert's name doe owe 1 5 

These devotions ; fairest, know 

While I thus lay them on the shrine 

Of your white hand, they are mine. 

is ' Vpon Herbert's Temple, sent to a Gentlewoman. R. Cr.' Line 3 
in the MS. spells 'fire,' and has ' faire' before 'eyes;' adopted: line 
5th, books were used to be tied with strings: line 6th, 1646, 'you 
have. . .th":' line 7th, ms. reads 'would' for 'will;' adopted: line 
8th. ' to waite on vour chast.' G. 


L.eT'rcD jxrrbnict'iU S Tfrrfr Fcniititrice 
le 4.0rto. tfS^ . Caiionifee If a'Marr 1S12. . 


Fovndi-esse of the Reformation of the discalced Carmelites, 
both men and women ; a Woman for angelicall heigth of 
speculation, for masculine courage of perfonuance more 
then a woman : who yet a child, out-ran maturity, and 
durst plott a MartjTdome ; 

ilisericordias Domini in ^Eternvni cantabo. 

Le Vray portraict de S'* Terese, Fondatrice des Religieuses et 
Relifdeux reformez de Tordre de N. Dame du mont Carmel: 
Dccedee le 4« Octo. 1582. Canonisee le V2« Mars. 162-2.' 

The Htmne. 
LouE, thou art absolute sole lord i 

Of life and death. To proue the word 
AVee'l now appeal to none of all 
Those thy old souldiers, great and tall, 
Ripe men of martjTdom, that could reach down 5 
With strong arnies, their triumphant crown ; 
Such as could with lusty breath 
Speak lowd into the face of death, 

' Appeared originally in ' Steps' of IfilG (pp. 7!l-84): reprinted in 
editions of ICAS (pp. 89-94), 1G52 (pp. 93-100), and 1670 (pp. 61-67). 
Our text is that of ]6o2, as before, an<l its engraving of the Saint's 
portrait, and French lines here, are reproduced in our illustrated 
(piarto edition. See Notes and IlUistrations at close of the poem, and 
our Essay ou Teresa and Crashaw. G. 


Their great Lord's glorious name, to none 

Of those whose spatious bosomes spread a tlirone i o 

For Love at large to fill ; spare blood and sweat : 

And see him take a priuate seat, 

Making his mansion in the mild 

And milky soul of a soft child. 

Scarse has she leam't to lisp the name 1 5 

Of martyr ; j'et she thinks it shame 
Life should so long play with that breath 
T\Tiich spent can buy so braue a death. 
She neuer vndertook to know 

"What Death with Loue should haue to doe ; 20 

Nor has she e're yet vnderstood 
"\ATiy to show loue, she should shed blood. 
Yet though she cannot tell you why 
She can love, and she can dj*. 

Scarse has she blood enough to make 25 

A guilty sword blush for her sake ; 
Yet has she a heart dares hope to proue 
How much lesse strong is Death then Love. 

Be Loue but there ; let poor six yeares 
Be pos'd yni\i the maturest feares 30 

Man trembles at, you straight shall find 
Love knowes no nonage, nor the mind ; 
'Tis love, not yeares or limbs that can 
Make the martjT, or the man. 
Love touch't her heart, and lo it beates 35 

High, and burnes with such braue heates ; 


8uch thirsts to dy, as dares drink vp 

A thousand cold deaths in one cup. 

Good reason : for she breathes all fire ; 

Her Avhite brest heaues with strong desire 40 

Of Avhat she may with fruitles wishes 

Seek for amongst her mother's kisses. 

Since 'tis not to be had at home 
She'l trauail to a martyi-dom. 

^0 home for hers confesses she 45 

But where she may a martyr be. 

She'l to the IMoores ; and trade with them Moors 
For this vuualued diadem : 
She'l offer them her dearest breath, 
"With Christ's name in't, in change for death : 50 
She'l bargain with them ; and will giue 
Them God ; teach them how to Hue 
In Him : or, if they this deny, 
For Him she'l teach them how to dy : 
So shall she leaue amongst them sown 55 

Her Lord's blood ; or at lest her own. least 

Farewel then, all the World ! adieu ! 
Teresa is no more for you. 
Farewell, all pleasures, sports, and ioyes 
(Xever till now esteemed toyes) 60 

Farewell, what ever deare may bee. 
Mother's armes or father's knee : 
Farewell house, and farewell home ! 
8he's for tlic IMoores, and martyrdom. 


8\veet, not so fast ! lo thy fair Spouse 65 

^V^lon^ thou seekst with so swift vowes ; 
Calls thee back, and bidds thee come 
T'embrace a milder martyrdom. 

Blest powres forbid, thy tender life 
Should bleed ^'l^on a barbarous knife : 70 

Or some base hand haue power to raze 
Thy brest's chast cabinet, and vncase 
A soul kept there so sweet : O no, 
Wise Heaun will neuer have it so. 
Thou art Love's victime ; and must dy 75 

A death more mysticaU and high : 
Into Loue's armes thou shalt let fall 
A still-suruiuing funerall. 
His is the dart must make the death 
^^^lose stroke shall tast thy hallow'd breath ; 80 
A dart thrice dip't in that rich flame 
Wliich writes thy Spouse's radiant name 
Ypon the roof of Heau'n, where ay 
It shines ; and with a soueraign ray 
Beates bright vpon the burning faces 85 

Of soules which in that Name's sweet graces 
Find euerlasting smiles : so rare, 
So spirituall, pure, and fair 
^lust be th' imniortall instrument 
A^pon whose choice point shall be sent 90 

A life so lou'd : and that there be 
Fitt executioners for thee, 


Tho t'air'.Nt and tirst-born sons oi" lire 

Blest seraphim, shall Icano tlioir iiuiio, 

And turn Loue's soiddiers, vpon tlieo 95 

To exercise tlieir archorie. 
how oft shalt thou complain 
Of a sweet and subtle pain : 
Of intolerable ioycs : 

Of a death, in wliich m'Iio dyes 100 

Loues his death, and dyes again 
And would for euer so be slain. 
And Hues, and dyes ; and knowes nut wh}'^ 
To liue, but that he thus may neucr leaue to dy. 

How kindlj'^ will thy gentle heart 105 

Ivisse the sweetly-killing dart ! 
And close in his embraces keep 
Those delicious wounds, that weep 
Balsom to heal themselves with : thus 
When these thy deaths, so numerous 1 1 o 

Shall all at last dy into one. 
And melt thj' soul's sweet mansion ; 
Like a soft lump of incense, hasted 
By too hott a fire, and wasted 

Into perfuming clouds, so fast 1 1 5 

Shalt thou exhale to Heaiin at last 
In a resoluing sigh, and then 
O what 1 Ask not the tongues of men ; 
Angells cannot tell ; suffice 

Thy selfe shall feel thine own full ioyes, 120 

VOL. I. u 


And hold them fast for euer there. 

So soon as thou .shalt first ajipear, 

The moon of maiden starrs, thy white 

Mistresse, attended by sucli bright 

Sollies as ihy shining self, shall come i 2 5 

And in her first rankes make thee room ; 

Where 'mongst her snowy famUy 

Immortall wellcomes wait for thee. 

O Avhat delight; when rcueal'd Life shall stand, 
And teach thy lipps Heaun with His luvnd ; 1 30 
On which thou now maist to thy wishes 
Heap vp thy consecrated kisses. 
AVhat ioyes shall seize thy soul, when she, 
Bending her blessed eyes on Thee, 
(Those second smiles of Heau'n,) shall dart J35 

Her mild rayes through Thy melting heart. 

Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet tliee 
Glad at their own home now to meet thee. 

All thy good workes which went before 
And waited for thee, at the door, 1 40 

Shall own thee there ; and all in one 
Weaue a constellation 

Of crowns, with which the King thy Spouse 
Sliall build vp thy triumphant browes. 

All thy old woes shall now smile on thee, 1 45 
And thy paines sitt brig])t vpon thee. 
All thy sorrows here shall shine. 
All thv svfferings be diuiue : 


Teares shall take comfort, and turn gouinis 

And wrongs repent to diadennns. 150 

Eu'n thy death shall line ; and uvw- 

Urcsse the soiU that erst he slew. 

Thy wounds shall blush to such bright scarres 

iVs keep account of the Lamb's warres. 

Those rare Avorkes where tliou shalt leaue wvitt 155 
Loue's noble history, with witt 
Taught thee by none but Him, Mhile here 
They feed our soules, shall clothe thine there. 
Each heaunly word, by whose hid flame 
Our hard hearts shall strike fire, the same 1 60 

Shall flourish on thy browes, and be 
Both fire to vs and flame to thee ; 
ANliose light shall Hue bright in thy face 
15y glory, in our hearts bj' grace. 

Thou shalt look round about, and see 165 

Thousands of crown'd soules tlu-ong to be 
Themselues thy crown : sons of thy vowes 
The virgin-births with wliich thy sovieraigu Spouse 
Made fruitfull thy fair soul. Goe now 
And with them all about thee, bow 170 

To Him ; put on (HeeT say) put on 
(My rosy loue) that thy ricli zone 
Sparkling with the sacred flames 
Of thousand soules, whose happy names 
Heau'n keep vpon thy score : (Thy bright 1 7 5 

Life brought them first to kissc the light, 


Tljut kiudled them to starrs,) and so 

Thou Avitli the Lamb, thy Lord, shalt goe, 

Aud whereso'ere He setts His wliite 

Stepps, walk with Him those wayes of light, 1 80 

Which who in death would Hue to see. 

Must learn in life to dy like thee. 


The original edition (1646) tas this title, ' In memory of 
the Vertuous and Learned Lady Madi-e de Teresa, that sought 
an early Martyrdome ;' and bo also in 1648. 1670 agi-ees with 
1652 ; only the Latin line above the- portrait and the French 
verses are omitted. 

The text of 1646 furnishes a number of variations coiTective 
in part of all the subsequent editions. These are recorded 
below. 1648 agrees substantially with 1652 : but a few unim- 
portant readings peculiar to it are also given in these Notes. 

Various readings from 1646 edition. 
Line 3, ' Wee need to goe to none of all.' 

4, ' stout' for ' gi-eat.' 

5, ' ripe and full gi'owne.' 

8, ' unto' for 'into ;' the latter preferable. 

10, ' Of those whose large breasts built a throne.' 


' For Love their Lord, glorious and great 
Weel see Him take a private seat, 
And make. . . .' 

I have hesitated whether this ought not to have been adopted 
as our text ; but it is a characteristic of Crashaw to introduce 
abruptly long and short Hues as in our text, aud to carry a 
thought or metaphor through a number of lines. 
Line 15, ' had' for ' has,' aud ' a' for ' the.' 
,, 21, ' hath,' and so in 1648 edition. 
,, 23, our text (1652) mispiints ' enough:' 1 correct from 


25, ' had,' 1648 ' hath. 
27, 1648, ' hath.' 
31, ' wee' for 'you.' 


Liue 37, ' thirst' for ' thirsts,' ami ' daru' for ' ilari-n.' 
,, 38 spells ' colod.' 

„ 40, ' wuake' for ' whito;' the latter a favourite epithet 
with CuAsiiAW : 1048 ' weake.' 

Liue 43, 1G48 drops ' at' inadvertently. 
,, 44 spells ' travell :' 1(>48 has ' for' instead of ' to.' 
,, 45, 'her,' by inispriut for 'her's.' 
„ 47, 1048 has ' try' for ' trade.' 
,, 49, ' Shee oti'ers.' 57 spells ' adeiu." 
,, 01, this line is by oversight di-opped from our text 

Line 70, spelled ' barborous' in our text, but I have adopted 
' a' from 1040 and 1048. 

Line 71, ' race' for ' raze ;' a common contemporary spelling. 
,, 77, ' hand' for ' armes.' 

„ 93, ' The fairest, and the first borne Loves of fire.' 
,, 94, ' Scraphims,' the usual misspeUiug of the plural 
of seraph in our English Bible. 

Line 104, ' To live, but that he still may dy.' 
,, 100, our text (1052) misreads ' sweetly -kissing.' I 
have adopted ' sweetly-kUling' from 1040, 1048 and 1070. 
Liue 108, 1048 has ' thine' for ' his.' 
,, 118, ' disolving.' 

,, 123, our text (1652) inadvertently drops ' shalt,' and 
misreads ' you' for ' thou.' I accept the text of 1646, 1648 
and 1070. 

Line 129, ' on.' 
,, 130, ' shee' for ' reueal'd Life ;' and in next line ' her' 
for ' His.' Our text (1052) is preferable, as pointing to Christ 
the Life, our Life. See under lines 11-13. 
Line 133, ' joy.' 
,, 1-40, ' set ;' a common contemporary spelling. 
,, 147, this line, dropped inadvertently from our text 
(1652), is restored from 1040, 1648 and 1070. 
Line 148, ' And' for ' AH.' 
,, 151, ' Even thy deaths.' 
,, 152, ' Dresse the soul that late they slew.' 

107 misprints 'nowes;' corrected in 1048, but not in 


108 di-ops ' soueraigu.' Sec under lines 11-13. 

175, ' keeps.' 

178, ' shall.' Cf. Kev. xiv. 5, as before. G. 



Thus haue I back aj^ain to thy bright name i 

(Fair floud of holy fires !) transfus'd the flame 

1 took from reading thee : 'tis to thy wrong 

I know, that in my weak and worthlesse song 

Thou here art sett to shine where thj- full day 5 

Scarse dawnes. pardon, if I dare to say 

Thine own dear bookes are guilty. For from theuci- 

I learn't to know that Loue is eloquence. 

That hopefull maxime gaue me hart to try 

If, what to other tongues is tun'd so high, 1 o 

Thy praise might not speak English too : forbid 

(By all thy uiysteiyes that here ly hidde) 

Forbid it, mighty Loue ! let no fond hate 

Of names and wordes, so farr pr?eiudicate. 

Souls are not Spaniards too : one freindly floud 1 5 

Of baptism blends them all into a blood. 

Christ's faith makes but one body of all soules, 

And Loue's that body's soul ; no law controwlls 

' Appeared originally in the ' Steps' of 1646 (pp. 85-6) : roprinieil 
in editions of 1048 (pp. 07-8) and 1670 (pp. 67-8). Our text is tliat 
of 1648. Sec our Kssay for the biofirapliic interest of this poem, 
and also Notes at its close. G. 


Our free traffuiuc for Heau'ii ; wo may raaintaine 

Peace, sure, witli piety, though it come from Spain. 20 

What soul so e're, in any langu:tge, can 

Speak Heau'n like her's, is my soul's country-man. 

O 'tis not Spanisli, but 'tis Heau'n she speaks ! 

'Tis Heau'n that lyes in ambush there, and breaks 

From thence into the wondring reader's brest ; 2 5 

Who feels his warm heart hatcht into a nest 

Of little eagles and young loues, whose high 

Flights scorn the lazy dust, and things that dy. 

There are enow whose draughts (as deep as Hell) 

Drink vp all Spain in sack. Let my soul swell 30 

With the strong wine of Loue : let others swimme 

In puddles ; we will pledge this serapliim 

Bowles fiUl of richer blood then blush of grape 

Was euer guilty of. Change we our shape 

(My soul) some drink from men to beasts, then 35 

Drink we till we jjroue more, not lesse, then men. 

And turn not beasts but angels. Let tlie King 

Me euer into these His cellars bring. 

Where fiowes such wine as we can haue of none 

But Him Who trod the winc-presse all alone : 40 

Wine of youth, life, and tlie sweet deaths of Loue ; 

Wine of immortall mi.xture ; which can proue 

Its tincture from the rosy nectar ; wine 

That can exalt weak earth ; and so refine 

Our dust, that at one draught, Mortality 45 

May drink it self vp, and forgot to dy. 



The title in 104fi ' Steps' is ' An Apologie for the precedent 
Hymne :" in lOiS the ' Flaminf; Heart' also precedes the ' Apo- 
loffie,' and its title, ' Hymnes on Teresa,' is added. I(i70 has 
' was yet a Pi-otestant.' 

Vnrioiix readings from 1646. 
Line 2, ' sea.' 
,, 9, 'heavenly.' 
,, 12, ' there' for ' here.' 
,, 14, ' prejudicate.' 
,, 16, ' one' for ' a :' 1670 has ' one.' 
„ 18, 1648 spells ' comptrolls.' 
„ 20, ' dwell in' for ' come from.' 
,, 21, 'soever.' 

,, 26, ' finds' for ' feels :' our text (1652) drops ' hatcht,' 
which we have restored after 1646 and 1648 ; 1670 reads ' hatch,' 
and TuRNcuLL follows blindly. 

Line 29, cm- text (16.52j misreads ' now :' we restore ' enow,' 
after the editions as in No. 9. 

Line 34, our text misreads ' too' after ' we :' I omit it, as 
in 1646 and 1670. 1648 has ' to.' 
Line 41, ' Wine of youth's Life.' 
,, 45, ' in' for ' at.' As the ' Apologie' refers only to 
the Hymn preceding, and not to what foUows, I have placed it 
after the former, not Cas in 1648) the latter, wliich would make 
it refer to both. G. 



Wel-meanixg readers ! you that come as freinds i 
And catch the pretious name this peice pretends ; 

1 Appeared originally in 1648 'Steps' (pp. 94-6): reprinted in 
editions of 165-> (pp. 10.3-107) and 1670 (pp. 194-7). Oiir text is 
of 1652, as before. G. 


Make not too much hast to admii-e 

That fair-check't fallacy of fire. 

That is a seraphim, they say 5 

And this the great Teresia. 

Readers, he rul'd by me ; and make 

Here a well-plact and wise mistake : 

You must transpose the picture quite, 

And spell it wrong to read it right ; 1 o 

Read him for her, and her for him, 

And call the saint the seraphim. 

Painter, what didst thou vnderstand 
To put her dart into his hand ? 

See, euen the yeares and size of him 1 5 

Showes this the mother seraphim. 
This is the mistresse flame ; and duteous he 
Her happy fire-works here, comes down to see. 
O most poor-spirited of men ! 

Had thy cold pencil kist her pen, 20 

Thou couldst not so vnkindly err 
To show vs this faint shade for her. 
Why, man, this speakes pure mortall frame ; 
And mockes with female frost Loue's manly flame. 
One would suspect thou meant' st to paint 2 5 

Some weak, inferiour, woman-saint. 
But had thy pale-fac't purple took 
Fire from the burning cheeks of that bright booke, 
Thou wouldst on her haue heap't vp all 
That could be found seraphicall ; 30 

VOL. I. X 


Wliat c're this youth of lire, weares fair, 

Rosy fingers, radiant hair, 

Glowing cheek, and glistering wings. 

All those fair and fragrant things 

But hefore all, that fiery dart 35 . 

Had fill'd tlie hand of this great heart. 

Doe then, as equall right requires. 
Since his the blushes be, and her's the fires, 
Resume and rectify thy rude design, 
Vndresse thy seraphim into mine ; 40 

Redeem this iniury of thy art, 
Giue him the vail, giue her the dart. 
Giue him the vail ; that he may couer 
The red cheeks of a riuall'd louer. 
Asham'd that our world now can show 45 

Nests of new seraphims here below. 

Giue her the dart, for it is she 
(Fair youth) shootes both thy shaft, and thee ; 
Say, all ye wise and weU-peirc't hearts 
That liue and dy amidst her darts, 50 

What is't your tastfuU spirits doe proue 
In that rare life of her, and Loue 1 
Say, and bear witnes. Sends she not 
A seraphim at euery shott ? 

What magazins of immortall amies there shine ! 55 
Heaun's great artillery in each loue-spuu line. 
Giue then the dart to her who giues the flame ; 
Giue him the veil, who giues the shame. 

TIIK Kl..VMIN(i Uli.VllT. \^^^1 

But if it bo the fioijUfnt fate 
Of woret faults to be fortunate ; f>o 

If all's pra'scription ; and proud wrong 
Hearkens not to an humble song ; 
For all the gallantry of him, 
Giue me the sulfring seraphim. 

His bo the braucry of all those bright things, ('15 

Tlie glowing chcekes, the glistering wings ; 
The rosy hand, the radiant dart ; 
Leaue her alone the flammg heart. 

Lcaue her that ; and thou shalt leaue her 
Not one loose shaft but Loue's whole quiver. 70 

For in Loue's feild was neuer found 
A nobler weapon then a wovnd. 
Loue's passiues are his actiu'st part, 
The wounded is the wounding heart. 
heart ! the ?equall poise of Loue's both parts 7 5 

Bigge alike with woiuid and darts. 
Line in these conquering leaues ; Hue all the same, 
And Avalk through all tongiies one triumphant flame. 
Liue here, great heart ; and loue and dy and kill ; 
And bleed and wound; and yeild and conquer stiU. 80 
Let this immortall life wherere it comes 
Walk in a crowd of louos and martyrdomes. 
Let mystick deaths wait on't ; and wise soules be 
The loue-slaiu Avittnesses of this life of thee. 

O sweet incendiary ! shew here thy art, 85 

Vpon this carcasse of a hard, cold hart ; 


Let all thj' scatter'd shafts of light, that play 

Among the leaues of thy larg books of day. 

Combin'd against this hrest at once break in 

And take away from me my self and sin ; 90 

This gratious robbery shall thy bounty be, 

And my best fortunes such fair spoiles of me. 

O thou vndanted daughter of desires ! 

By all thy dowT of lights and fires ; 

By all the eagle in thee, all the doue ; 95 

By all thy liues and deaths of loue ; 

By thy larg draughts of intellectuall day. 

And by thy thirsts of loue more large then they; 

By all thy brim-fill'd bowles of feirce desire, 

By thy last morning's draught of liquid fire ; 1 00 

By the full kingdome of that finall kisse 

That seiz'd thy parting soul, and seal'd thee His ; 

Vij all the Heau'n thou hast in Him 

(Fair sister of the seraphim I) 

By all of Him we have in thee ; 105 

Leaue nothing of my self in me. 

Let me so read thy life, that I 

Vnto aU life of mine may dy. 


The title in 1648 omits tlie words ' the seraphical saiut," and 
the text there lacks the last twenty-four lines. 

Various readinflg from 1646. 
Line 3, ' so' for ' too.' 
,, 11, 'And' for ' read.' 
,, 18, ' happier.' 


Line 31 misreads ' But e"re,' anil ' were' for ' weares.' 
,, 33, ' chockes.' 

,, 34 flata^antly misreads ' flagi-ant' for ' fragrant,' which 
TuBNBULL as nsual blindly repeats. 
Line 48, ' shafts.' 
,, 58 reads ' . . . . kindly tells the shame.' It is a cha- 
racteristic of Cr.*.shaw to vary his measures, else I should have 
adopted this reading from 1648. The line is somewhat obscure 
tlu-ough the conceitful repetition of ' gives.' The sense is, 
who, being pictm-ed red, shows the blushing shamefacedness 
of being outdone in his own seraphic nature by an earthly 
saint. G. 


Lord, when the sense of Thy sweet grace i 

Sends vp my soul to seek Thy face, 
Thy blessed eyes breed such desire, 
I dy in Loue's delicious fire. 

O Loue, I am thy sacrifice ! 5 

Be stiU triumphant, blessed eyes ! 
StUl .sliiue on me, fair suns ! that I 
Still may behold, though still I dy. 


Though still I dy, I liue again ; 
Still longing so to be stUl slain ; 1 o 

' Appeared originally in ' Steps' of 1648 (p. 98) : reprinted in 105'2 
(p. 107) and 1(57(1 {pp. 197-8). Our text is that of 1(;52, as before ; 
but the only difference in the others is (except the usual slight 
charges in orthography), that in 1648, 2d part, line 5 reads 'longing' 
for 'louing,' wliich I have adopted, as poiutuig back to the 'longing' 
of the 1st part. Inie 2. The title T take from 1648, as in 1652 it is 
simply 'A Song.' G. 


So gainful! is such losse of breath, 
I dy cuen in desire of death. 

Still Hue in me this longing strife 
Of liuing death and dying life ; 
For while Thou sweetly slaj-est me 
Dead to my selfe, I Hue in Thee. 


The Hymn. 
Hark ! she is call'd, the parting houre is come ; i 

Take thy farewell, poor "World 1 Heaun must go home. 
A peice of heau'nly earth ; purer and brighter [her. 
Then the chast starres, whose choise lamps come to light 
AVhil'st through the crystaU orbes, clearer then tliey 5 
She climbes ; and makes a farre more Jlilkey Way. 
She's call'd ! Hark, how the dear immortaU Doue 
Sighes to His syluer mate, ' Rise vp, my loue' ! 
Rise vp, my fail", my spotlesse one ! 
The Winter's past, the rain is gone ; i o 

Tlie Spring is come, the flowrs appear, 
No sweets, (.save thou,) are wanting here. 

' Appeared oripnally in the ' Steps' of 1G46 (pp. 00-1) : reprinieil 
in 1618 (pp. !l!>-101), Ub> (pp. SI-:!), 1670 (pp. 70--.>). (»iir text i.- 
that of 1662, as before ; but see Notes ami Illustrations at close of 
the poem. G. 


t'omo away, my loue ! 

Come away, my done ! 

Cast off delay ; i s 

The court of Heau'n is come 

To wait vpon thee home ; 
Come, come away ! 

The flowrs appear. 
Or quickly would, wert thou once here. 20 

The Spring is come, or if it stay 
'Tis to keep time with thy delay. 
Tlie rain is gone, except so much as we 
Detain in needfuU teares to weei) the want of thee. 

The Winter's past, 25 

Or if he make lesse hast, 
His answer is, why she does so, 
If Sommer come not, how can Winter goe ? 

Come away, come away! 
The shrill winds chide, the waters weep thy stay; 30 
The fountains murmur, and each loftyest tree 
Bowes low'st his leauy top, to look for thee. 

Come away, my loue ! 

Come away, my doue &c. 
She's call'd again. And will she goe ? 35 

When Heau'n bidds come, who can say no 1 
Heau'n calls her, and she must away, 
Heau'n will not, and she cannot stay. 
Goe then ; goe, gloriovs on the golden wings 
Of the bright youth of Heau'n, that sings 40 


Vnder so sweet a burthen. Goe, 

Since thj' dread Son vnll haue it so. 

And while thou goest, our song and we 

Will, as we may, reach after thee. 

Hail, holy queen of humhle liearts ! 45 

We in thy prayse will haue our parts. 

iVnd though thy dearest lookes must now give light 

To none but the blest heavens, whose bright 

Beholders, lost in sweet delight, 

Feed for ever their faire sight 

"With those divinest eyes, which we 

And our darke world noe more shaU see ; 

Though our poore eyes are parted soe, 

Yet shall our lipps never lett goe 

Thy gracious name, but to the last 55 

Om- loving song shall hold it fast. 

Thy pretious name shall be 

Thy self to vs ; and we 

With holy care will keep it by vs. 

We to the last 60 

WiU hold it fast, 

And no Ass\Tnption shaU deny vs. 

AU the sweetest showres 

Of our fairest flowres 

Will we strow vpon it. 65 

Though our sweets cannot make 

It sweeter, they can take 

Themselues new sweetness from it. 


Maria, men and angels sing, 

Maria, mother of our King. 7 o 

Live, rosy princesse, live ! and may the bright 

Crown of a most incomparable light 

Embrace thy radiant browes. O may the best 

Of euerlastiug ioyes bath thy white brcst. 

Live, our chast loue, the holy mirth 7 5 

Of Heau'n ; the humble pride of Eartli. 

Liue, crown of woemen ; queen of men ; 

Line, mistresse of our song. And when 

Our weak desires haue done their best. 

Sweet angels come, and sing the rest. 80 


The heading in the Sascroft ms. is ' On the Assumption of 
the Vii'gin Marie.' In line 5 it reads ' whil'st,' and so in lino 
43 : line 7, ' againe th' immortal Dove :' line 12, oiu- text (WH'i) 
reads ' but ;' we prefer ' saue' of 1648 and the ms. : line 30, our 
text (1652) misprints ' heany' for ' leavy" of 1648 : line 42, the 
MS. reads 'great:' line 47, 'give' for 'be;' adopted: Une 53, 
' eyes' for ' ioyes ;' adopted : line 57, ' sacred :' Une 76, ' bragg :' 
line 77, 'praise of women, pride of men.' 

By an unaccountable inadvertence, our text (1652) omits 
lines 47-56. They are restored from 1648 : they also appear 
in 1670. Line 18 in 1648 reads ' Come, come away :' in 1670 
it is ' Come away, come away ;" but this edition strangely, but 
characteristically, omits lines 19-34 ; and TrENBULL, following 
it, though pronounced by himself ' the most inaccm-ate of aU' 
(Pi'eliminary Observations, p. xi. of his edition), has over- 
looked them. Confer, for a quaint parallel with these lines 
(19-34), our Joseph Fletcher. It may also be noted here that 
TuRNBULL betrays his habitual use of his self-condemned text 
of 1670 by misreading in line 12, ' No sweets since thou art 
wanting here ;' so converting the fine compliment into ungi-am- 

VOL. I. Y 


matical nonsense. Earlier also (Une 3) he similarly reade. 
after the same text, ' light' for ' earth.' So too in line 7 he 
reads ' She's caU'd again ; hark! how th" immortaU dove : and 
line 42, for the favourite 'dread' of oui- Poet the weaker ' great, 
as supra : and the following line 63 omits ' the :' line 64, ' our : 
line 65 reads • We'U :' Une 76, • and' for ' the.' On hnes 9-10, 
cf. Song of So'.omon. ii. 10-13. G. 



EisE, then, immortall maid '. KeUgion, rise ! i 

Put on tlij' self in tliine own looks : t' our eyes 
Be what thy beauties, not our blots, have made thee ; 
Such as (ere our dark sinnes to dust betray'd thee) 
Heav'n set thee down new drest ; when thy bright birth 
Shot thee like lightning to th' astonisht Earth. 6 

1 From ' Five Piovs and Learned Discourses : 

1. A Sermon shewing how we ought to behave our selves in 

God's house. t- • ^ tt i 

2. A Sermon preferring boly Charity before Faith, Hope and 

Knowledge. ,.^ , u ... 

3 A Treatise shewing that God's Law now qualified by the 
Gospel of Christ, is possible, and ought to be fulfilled of 
us in this life. 
i A Treiitise of the Divine attributes. 
5 A Treatise shewing the Antichrist not to be yet come. 
Bv Kobert Shelf ord, of Ringsfield in Suffolk. Priest. Printed by 
the printers to the Universitie of Cambridge, 163o [quarto]. See 
Note at close of the poem, and our Essay, for more on Shelford. G. 


From th' dawn of thy fair eyeliils \vij)e away 

Dull mists and melancholy clouds : take Day 

And thine own beams about thee : bring the best 

Of whatsoe're perfuni'd thy Eastern nest. i o 

Girt all thy glories to thee : then sit down, 

Open tills book, fair Queen, and take thy crown. 

These learned leaves shall vindicate to thee 

Thy holyest, humblest, handmaid, Charitie ; 

She'l dresse thee like thy self, set thee on high i 5 

Where thou shalt reach all hearts, command each eye. 

Lo ! where I see thy altars wake, and rise 

From the pale dust of that strange sacrifice 

Which they themselves were ; each one putting on 

A majestic that may beseem thy throne. 20 

The holy youth of Heav'n, whose golden rings 

Girt round thy awfull altars ; with bright wings 

Fanning thy fair locks, (which the World beleeves 

As much as sees) shall with these sacred leaves 

Trick their tall plumes, and in that garb shall go 25 

If not more glorious, more conspicuous tho. 

Be it enacted then. 

By the fair laws of thy firm-pointed pen, 

God's services no longer shall put on 

Pure sluttish ncsse for pure religion : 30 

'So longer shall our Churches' frighted stones 

Lie scatter'd like the burnt and martyr'd bones 

Of dead Devotion ; nor faint marbles weep 

In their sad mines ; nor Keligion keep 


A melancholy mansion in those cold 35 

Urns : Like God's sanctuaries they lookt of old ; 

Now seem they Temples consecrate to none, 

Or to a new god, Desolation. 

No more the hypocrite shall th' upright be 

Because he's stiffe, and will confesse no knee : 40 

WMle others bend their knee, no more shalt thou, 

(DisdainfuU dust and ashes !) bend thy brow ; 

Nor on God's altar cast two scorching eyes, 

Bak't in hot scorn, for a burnt sacrifice : 

But (for a lambe) thy tame and tender heart, 45 

New struck by Love, still trembling on his dart ; 

Or (for two turtle-doves) it shall suffice 

To bring a pair of meek and humble eyes. 

This shall from henceforth be the masculine theme 

Pulpits and pennes shall sweat in ; to redeem 50 

Vertue to action, that life-feeding flame 

That keeps Eeligion warm : not swell a name 

Of Faith ; a mountain-word, made up of aire, 

With those deare spoils that wont to dresse the fair 

And fruit full Charitie's full breasts (of old), 55 

Turning her out to tremble in the cold. 

"V\liat can the poore hope from us, when we be 

Uncharitable ev'n to Charitie? 

Nor shall our zealous ones still have a fling 

At that most horrible and horned thing, 60 

Forsooth the Pope : by Avhich black name they call 

The Turk, the devil. Furies, Hell and all, 


Ami something more. O he is Antichrist : 

Doubt this, and doubt (say they) that Christ is Christ : 

Why, 'tis a point of Faith. What e're it be, 65 

I'm sure it is no point of Charitie. 

In summe, no longer shall our people hope. 

To be a true Protestant's but to liate the Pope. 


I have taken the test of this poem as it originally appeared, 
because in all the editions of the Poems wherein it is given 
the last ten lines are omitted. Turnbull discovered this after 
his text of the Poems was printed off, and so had to insert 
them in a Postscript, wherein his genius for blundeiing describes 
Shelford's volume as ' Five .... Poems.' These slight varia- 
tions may be recorded : 

The title in all is ' On a Treatise of Charity.' 
Line 12, 1648 has ' thy' for ' this.' 
,, 16, ib. ' shall' for ' shalt.' 
,, 17, all the editions ' off 'rings' for ' altars.' 
,, 30, ib. 'A' for the first 'piu-e.' 
,, 36, our text mispiints ' look' for ' look't.' 
The poem is signed in Shelford's volume ' Rich. Crashaw, 
Aul. Pemb. A.B.' It appeared in ' Steps' of 1046 (pp. 86-8), 
1648 (pp. 101-2), 1670 (pp. 68-70). G. 



Hear'st thou, my soul, what serious things 
Both the Psalm and sybyll sings 
Of a sure ludge, from WHiose sharp ray 
The "World in flames shall fly away. 

O that ilre ! before whose face 
Heaun and Earth shall find no place. 
O those eyes ! \Yhose angry light 
Must be the day of that dread night. 

that trump I whose blast shall run 
An euen round ^vitli the circling sun. 
And vrge the murmurhig graues to bring 
Pale mankind forth to meet his King. 

' Appeared orij^inally in ' Steps' of 1648 (pp. 106-7), where it is 
beaded 'A Hymne in Moditatiiin of the Day of Judgement:' re- 
printed 1652 (pp. 7-1-78), 1670 (pp. 191-4). Our text is that of 1652, 
and its engraving here is reproduced in our illustratetl (|uarto edi- 
tion. See our Essay for critical remarks on this great version of a 
supreme hymn. G. 



Horror of Nature, Hell, and Dcatli ! 
"Wlien a deep groan from beneath 
Sliall cry, We come, we come, and all 
The caues of Night answer one call. 


that Book ! whose leaues so bright 
AVill sett the World in seuere light. 
that ludge ! Whose hand, Wliose eye 
None can indure ; yet none can fly. 


Ah then, poor soxil, what wilt thou say ? 
And to what patron chuse to pray ? 
When starres themselues shall stagger ; and 
The most firm foot no more then stand. 


But Thou giu'st leaue (dread Lord !) that we 
Take shelter from Thy self, in Thee ; 
And with the wings of Thine Own doue 
Fly to Thy scepter of soft loue. 


Dear, remember in that Day 
Wlio was the cause Thou cam'st this Avay. 
Thy sheep Avas stray'd ; and Thou wouldst be 
Euen lost Thyself in seeking me. 


Shall all thai labour, all that cost 
Of loue, and eu'n tliat losse, he lost ? 
And tills lou'd soul, iudg'd worth no lesse 
Then all that way, and wearyness. 


lust mercy then. Thy reckning be 
With my Price, and not with me ; 
'Twas pay'd at first with too much pain, 
To be pay'd twice ; or once, in vain. 


ISIercy (my ludge), mercy I cry 
With blushing cheek and bleeding ey : 
The conscious colors of my sin 
Are red without and pale within. 


let Thine Own soft boweUs pay 
Thy self ; and so discharge that day. 
If Sin can sigh, Loue can forgiue : 
O say the word, my soul shall liue. 

Those mercy es which Thy Mary found, 
Or who Thy crosse confes't and croAvn'd ; 
Hope tells my heart, the same loues be 
Still aliue, and still for me. 

niEfs iim:, oiks hj.a. jc,;) 


Thougli botli my prayres and teares coniLiiip, 
Both wortlilesso are ; for they are mine. 
But Thou Thy bounteous Self .still be ; 
And show Thou art, by sauing me. 


O.when Thy last frown sliall proclaim 
The flocks of goates to folds of flame, 
And all Thy lost sheep found shall be ; 
Let ' Come ye blessed,' then call me. 


When the dread ' Ite' shall diuide 
Those limbs of death, from Thy left side ; 
Let those life-speaking lipps command 
That I inheritt Thy riglit hand. 


() hear a suppUant heart, all crush't 
And crumbled into contrite dust. 
iMy hope, my fear! my Judge, my Freind ! 
Take charge of me, and of my end. 


V luxate. 1670, st. n. hue .3, misprints 'these' for 'those' 
St ^^u. line 3, 'And Thou wouWst be,' i.e. di.lst wiTi to be ' 
not merely .ishe.l to be, but carried o„t Thy inte^ G '~ 

VDL. I. 


Lord, what is man ? why should he coste Thee i 
So dear ] what had his ruin lost Thee ? 
Lord, what is man % that thou hast ouerbought 
So much a thing of nought ? 

Loue is too kind, I see ; and can 5 

Make but a simple merchant-man. 
'Twas for such sorry merchandise, 
Bold painters haue putt out his eyes. 

Alas, sweet Lord, what wer't to Thee 
If there were no such wormes as we ? 10 

Heau'n ne're the lesse stiU Heau'n would be, 

Should mankind dwell 

In the deep Hell : 
"What haue his woes to doe with Thee ? 

Let him goe weep 1 5 

O're his own wounds ; 
Seraphims will not sleep 
Nor spheares let faU their faithfull rounds. 

> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 107-9): reprinted 
1()52 (pp. ,52-54) and 1670 (pp. 176-8). Our text is that of 1652, as 
before. In 1648 lines 1 and 2 read 'you' for 'thee;' and line 33 
' Thou' for ' you.' the latter adopted. G. 


Still would the youthfuU spirits sing ; 
Ami still Thy spatious palace ring ; 20 

Still would tliose beauteous ministers of light 

Burn all as bright. 

And bow their iflaming heads before Thee : 
Still thrones and dominations would adore Thee ; 
Still would those euer-Avakefull sons of fire 25 

Keep warm Thy prayse 

Both nights and dayes, 
And teach Thy lou'd name to their noble lyre. 

Let fro ward dust then doe it's kiad ; 
And giue it self for sport to the proud wind. 30 

Why should a peice of peeuish clay plead shares 
In the eternity of Thy old cares 1 
Why shouldst Thou bow Thy awfull brest to see 
What mine own madnesses haue done with me 1 

Should not the king still keepe his throne 35 
Because some desperate fool's vndone ? 
Or Avill the World's illustrious eyes 
Weep for euery worm that dyes. 

Will the gallant sun 

E're the lesse glorious run 1 40 

Will he hang down his golden head 
Or e're the sooner seek liis Western bed, 

Because some foolish fly 

Growes wanton, and will dy ? 


If I were lost in misery, 45 

What was it to Thy Hcaun and Thee 1 
What was it to Thy pretious blood 
If my foul heart caU'd for a floud 1 

What if my faithlesse soul and I 

Would needs faU in 50 

With guQt and sin ; 
What did the Lamb, that He should dy 1 
What did the Lamb, that He should need, 
WTien the wolf sins. Himself to bleed ? 

If my base lust, 55 

Bargain'd with Death and well-beseeming dust : 

Why should the white 

Lamb's bosom Avrite 

The purple name 

Of my sin's shame ? 60 

Why should His mstaind brest make good 
My blushes with His Own heart-blood ? 

my Saviovr, make me see 
How dearly Thou hast payd for me, 
That lost agaiii my life may proue, 65 

As then in death, so now in louc. 

\ ■ S. .lIAiU.d M: A TOIL. 

Di'ccaif me:u nii/ti e"- eac i/A , 

aui ai/c!ttir t'ltrr l:ii,-z . c.-^r j 


Dilectus mcus mihi, et ego illi, qui pascitiir inter lilia. Canl. ii. 


Hail, most high, most humble one ! 
Aboue the world, below thy Son ; 
Whose blush the moon beauteously marres 
And Staines the timerous light of stares. 
He that made all things, had not done 
TiU He had made Himself thy Son : 
The whole World's host would be thy guest 
And board Himself at thy rich brest. 

boundles hospitality ! 
The Feast of all things feeds on thee. 

The first Eue, mother of our Fall, 
E're she bore any one, slew all. 
Of her vnkind gift might we haue 
Th' inheritance of a hasty grave : 
Quick-burye'd in the wanton tomb ) 5 

Of one forbidden bitt ; 
Had not a better frvit forbidden it. 

Had not thy healthfull womb 

1 Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 109-110): reprinted 
H5o2 (pp. 79-80) and 1670.(pp. 194-5). Our text is that of 1652, as 
before, and its engraviaig here is reproduced in our illustrated quarto 
edition in two forms (one hitherto unknown) from the Bodleian 
copy. G. 



The World's new eastern window bin, 
And giuen vs heau'n again, in giuing Him. 20 

Thine was the rosy dawn, that spring the Day 
Which renders all the starres she stole away. 

Let then the aged World be wise, and all 
Proue nobly here vnnaturall ; 
'Tis gratitude to forgett that other 25 

And call the maiden Eue their mother. 

Yee redeem'd nations farr and near, 
Applaud your happy selues in her ; 
(All you to whom this loue belongs) 
And keep't aliue with lasting songs. 30 

Let hearts and lippes speak lowd ; and say 
HaU, door of life : and sourse of Day ! 
The door was shut, the fountain seal'd ; 
Yet Light was seen and Life reueal'd. 
The door was shut, yet let in day, 35 

The fountain seal'd, yet Life found way. 

Glory to Thee, great virgin's Son 
In bosom of Thy Father's blisse. 

The same to Thee, sweet Spirit be done ; 
As euer shall be, was, and is. Amen. 40 


The beading in 1648 is simply 'The Virgin-Mother:' 
1G70 it is ' The Hymn, O Gloriosa Domina.' 
Line 2, lf)48 reads ' the Son.' 
,, 10, our text (1652) misprints ' the" for ' thee." 

HOPE. 1 75 

Line 21, I follow here the text of 1648. 1652 reads 

' Thine was ttie rosy dawn that sjining the day.' 
and this is repeated in 1670 and, of course, by Tubnbull. 

Line 26, 1648 has ' your' for ' theii-.' 
,, 35 is inadvertently dropped in our text (1652), though 
the succeeding Une (with which it rhymes) appears. I restore 
it. 1670 also drops it ; and so again Tdrnbull ! 

Lines 43-44, ' Because some foolish fly.' This metaphorical 
allusion to the Fall and its results (as described by Milton and 
others) is founded on the dying of various insects after begetting 
their kind. G. 


Hope, whose Aveak beeing rum'd is i 

Alike if it succeed or if it misse ! 

Whom ill and good doth equally confound, 

And both the homes of Fate's dilemma wound. 

Vain shadow ; that dost vanish quite 5 

Both at full noon and perfect night ! 

The starres haue not a possibility 
Of blessing thee. 

If thinges then from their end we happy call, 

'Tis Hope is the most hopelesse thing of aU. i o 

Hope, thou bold taster of delight ! 
"WTio in stead of doing so, deuourst it quite. 

I Appeared first in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 9G-9): reprinted in 1648 
(pp. 111-113), 1652 (pp. 128-131), and 1670 (pp. 74-77). Our text is 
that of 1652, as before ; with the exception of better readings from 
1646, as noted below. See our Memorial Introduction and Essay for 
notices of the friendship of Cowley and Crashaw. G. 

176 nopK. 

Thou bringst vs an estate, yet leau'st vs poor 

By clogging it with legacyes before. 

The ioyes which we intire should wed i 5 

Come deflour'd- virgins to our bed. 

Good fortunes without gain imported be 
Such mighty custom's paid to thee 

For ioy, like wine kep't close, doth better tast ; 

If it take air before, his spirits wast. 20 

Hope, Fortun's cheating lottery, 
WTiere for one prize, an hundred blankes there be. 
Fond anchor, Hope ! who tak'st thine aime so farr 
That still or short or Avide thine arrows are ; 

Thinne empty cloud which th' ey deceiues 25 
With shapes that our own fancy giues. 
A cloud which gilt and painted now appeares 

But must drop presently in teares : 
When thy false beames o're reason's light preuail. 
By ignes fatm for North starres' we sail. 30 

Brother of Fear, more gaily clad. 
The merrj'er fool o' th' two, yet quite as mad. 
Sire of Repentance, child of fond desire 
That blow'st the chj'mick's and the loner's fire. 

StUl leading them insensibly on 35 

With the strong witchcraft of ' anon.' 
By thee the one does changing nature, through 
Her endlesse labyrinths pursue ; 

And tir othei' (liases woman ; wliilc sliu goes 

Moiv waves aiul tiinies tlien Innited Xaturo kiiowes. 40 

M. (/Owr.KV. 


lu all tlu! eilitious save that of l(;o2 the respective portions 
of Cowi.EY and Ckasiiaw are alternated as Question and Answer, 
after a fashion of the day exemplified by PKimiioicE and Run- 
YARD and others. The heading in Ki-tC, 1648 and KiTO aocord- 
ingly is ' On Hope, by way of Question and Answer, between 
A. CowLKY and R. Crashaw." 

Various rcitlijips from 1646 edition. 

Line 3, ' and' for ' or," and ' doth" for ' does.' 
,, 7, 'Fates' for ' starres :' but as Fate occurs in line 4, 
' starres' seems preferable. 
Line 9, ' ends' for ' end." 
„ 18, ' so' for ' such." 
,, 19, ' doth' for ' does;' adopted. 

„ 20, ' its' for ' his ;' the personification warrants ' his.' 
,, 25. All the other editions misread 

• Thine empty cloud, the eye it selfe deceives.' 
There can be no question that ' thinne' not ' thine' was the 
poet's word. Cf. Crashaw's reference in his Answer. Tvun- 
BULL perpetuates the error. 
Line 30, ' not' for ' for." 
,, 33, ' shield" in all the editions save 1652 by mistake. 
,, 34, ' blows" and ' chymicks" for ' chymick;' the latter 

Line 37, ns in line 19. 

,, 38, spelled ' laborinths.' 
In our Essay see critical remarks showing that Cowley and 
Crashaw revised their respective portions. It seems to have 
escaped notice that Cowley himself wrote another poem ' Fur 
Hope," as his former was ' Against Hope.' See it iu our Study 
of Crashaw's Life and Poetrv. G. 

VOL. 1. 


Dear Hope ! Earth's dowry, and Heaun's debt I i 

The entity of things tliat are not yet. 

Subtlest, but surest beeing ! thou by whom 

Our nothing has a definition ! 

Substantial! shade ! whose sweet allay 5 

Blends both the noones of Xight and Day : 

Fates cannot find out a capacitj' 
Of hurting thee. 

From thee their lean dilemma, Avith blunt horn, 

Shrinkes, as the sick moon fiom the wholsome morn, i o 

Rich hope I Loue's legacy, vnder lock 
Of Faith ! still spending, and still growing stock ! 
Our crown-land lyes aboue, yet each meal brings 
A seemly portion for the sonnes of kings. 

Nor will the virgin ioyes we wed 15 

Come lesse vnbroken to our bed, 
Because that from the bridall cheek of Blisse 

Thou steal'st vs down a distant kisse. 
Hope's chast stealth harnies no more loye's maidenhead 
Then spousal rites preiudge the marriage bed. 20 

1 As with Cowlcv'.s lines : see font-note ante. G. 

M. CUASllAW's ANSWKK IDK lIDI'i:. I 7i) 

Fair hope ! Our earlycr Heau'u I by thee 
Young Time is taster to Eternity : 
Thy generous ■\vine with age growes strong, not sowre, 
Nor does it kill thy fruit, to smell thy fiowre. 

Thy golilen, growing head neuer hangs down 25 
Till in the lappc of Loue's fidl noone 
It falls ; and dyes ! no, it melts away 

As doth the dawn into the Day : 
As lumpes of sugar loose themselues, and twine 
Their subtile essence with the soul of wine. 30 

Fortune? alas.aboue the "World's low warres [starres. 
Hope walks ; and kickes the curld heads of consiiiriiig 
Her keel cutts not the wanes where these winds stirr, 
Fortune's Avhole lottery is one blank to her. 

Her shafts and shee, tly farre above, 35 

And forage in tlie helds of light and love. 
Sweet Hope ! kind cheat ! fair fallacy ! by thee 

We are not where nor what we be, 
J'>ut what and where we would be. Thus art thuu 
Uur absent presence, and our future now, 40 

Faith's .sister ! nurse of fair desire ! 

Fear's antidote ! a wise and wcll-stay'd hre ! 

Temper 'twixt cliill Despair, and torrid loy ! 

t^lueen regent in youge Loue's minority 1 

Though the vext chymick vainly cliases 45 

His fugitiue gold tlirmigh all lier faces ; 


Though Louc's more feirce, more fruitlesse, fires assay : 

Oue face more fugitiue then all they ; 
True Hope'-s a glorious huntresse, and her chase, 
Tlie Goil of Xature in the feilds of grace. 50 


Various readings from 1646 edition. 

Line 2, ' things' for ' those ;' adopted. But in Harleiax 
MS. 6917-18, it is 'those.' As this ms. supplies in poems on- 
ward various excellent readings (e.*/. ' Wishes'), it may be noted 
that the Collection came from Lord Somers" Librai-y of mss., 
and is accordingly authoritative. 
Lines 5-6 read 

' Faire cloud of fire. Ijoth shade and lij/lit 
Oiir life in death, our day in night.' 

Our text (16521 seems liner and deeper, and to put the thought 
with more coueinnity. 

Line !l, ' thinue' for ' lean.' 
,, 10, ' like" for ' as." 

,, 11, ' Rich hope' dropped in all the other editions ; but 
as it is parallel with the ' dear Hope' and ' fail- Hope" of the 
preceding and succeetling stanzas, I have restored the words. 
The line reads elsewhere, 

' Thuu art Love's Legacie under lock' 
and the next, 

' Of Faith : the steward of our growing stock." 
Line 13, ' crown-lands lye.' 
,, 18, ' Thou thus stearst downe a distant kisse." 
,, 19, ' Hope's chaste kisse wrongs.' .... 
,, 24, ' Nor need wee." .... 
,, 25, ' glowing' is ihopped. 
,, 28, 'doth' for 'does;" adopted. 

,, 30, ' subtile" for ' supple ;" adopted: but in H.\kleias 
MS. as before, it is ' supple.' 

Lines 31-32. This couplet is oddly misprinted in all the other 

' Fortune, alas, above the world's law warrcs, 
Hope kicks the curld' .... 

In 1670 there is a capital L to Law: but 'low' yields the evi- 



deut meauing mtended. Alas is :^ exclamation simply, uot in 
our preseut limitation of it to sorrow. See Epitaph of Hekrys 
onward, lines 49-52. 

Line 33. ' our' for ' these ;' the latter necessary in its rela- 
tion to ' low' not ' law,' the ' winds' being those of the ' warres' 
of our world. 

Line 34, ' And Fate's' for ' Fortune's.' 

.. 35-36 tb-opped by our text (1652) inadvertently. 

,, 36, ' or' for ' nor.' 

„ 45, 'And' for 'Though. • 

,, 47, ' huntresse' for ' hunter ;' adopted. 

., 48, ' Held' for ' fields.' 

., 49. I prefer ' huntresse' of 1646, 1648 and 1670, to 
' hunter" of our text (1652). G. 

Sacrcb ipoctru. 


rnoM iNi'tiii.isiiKi) Mss. 


See onr Preface for explanation of the title ' Aii-elles' to 
these and other hitherto unpi-inted and unpublished Poems 
from the Tanner mss. of Archbishop Bancroft : and our Essay 
for the biogi-aphic interest of the poems on the Gunpowder- 
Plot. I adliere strictly throughout to the orthography of the 

MS. G. 


St. Luke ii. 41-52 : Quwrit Jesum suum Maria, &c. (v. 44.) 

And is He gone, Whom these amies held but now \ 

Their hope, their vow ! 
Dill euer greife and joy in one poore heart 

Soe soone change i^art ? 
Hee's gone ! The fair'st flower that e're bosome drest ; 

My soiile's sweet rest. 
My wombe's chast pride is gone, ray lieauen-borne boy ; 

And where is joy ? 
Hee's gone ! and His lou'd steppes to wait vpon, 

^ly joy, is gone. 
My joyes, and Hee are gone ; my greife, and I 

Alone must ly. 
Hee's gone ! not leaving Avith me, till He come. 

One smile at home. 
Oh come then, bring Thy mother her lost joy : 

Oh come, sweet boy ! 
Make hast, and come, or e're my greife and I 

]\rake hast, and dy. 
Peace, heart ! The heauens are angry, all their spheres 

Rivall thy teares. 
I was mistaken, some faire sphere or other 

Was Thy blest mother. 

VOL. I. 111! 


What but the fairest heauen, could owne the Ijirth 

Of soe faire earth 1 
Yet sure Thou did'st lodge heere : this wombe of mine 

Was once call'd Thine ! 
Oft haue these armes Thy cradle envied, 

Beguil'd Thy bed. 
Oft to Thy easy eares hath this slirill tongue 

Trembled, and sung. 
Oft haue I wrapt Thy slumbers in soft aires, 

And stroak't Thy cares. 
Oft hath this hand those silken casements kept, 

\\Tule their sunnes slept. 
Oft haue my hungry kisses made Thine eyes 

Too early rise. 
Oft haue I spoild my kisses' daintiest diet, 

To spare Thy quiet. 
Oft from this breast to Thine, my loue-tost heart 

Hatli leapt, to part. 
Oft my lost soule haue I bin glad to seeke 

On Thy soft cheeke. 
Oft haue these armes — alas ! — show'd to these eyes 

Their now lost joyes. 
Dawne then to me. Thou morne of mine owne day, 

And lett heauen stay. 
Oh, would'st Thou heere still fixe Thy faire abode, 

!My bosome God : 
What hinders, but my bosome still might be 

Thv heauen to Thee ? 



Come braue soldjers, come and see 
Mighty Loue's artillery. 
This was the conquering dart ; and loe 
There shines His quiuer, there His bow. 
These tlic passiue weapons arc, 
That made great Loue, a man of warrc. 
The quiver that He bore, did bide 
Soe neare, it prov'd His very side : 
In it there sate but one sole dart, 
A petrcing one — His peirced heart. 
His weapons were nor Steele, nor brasse, 
The weapon that He wore, He was. 
For bow His vnbent hand did seruc. 
Well strung with many a broken nerue. 
Strange the quiver, bow and dart ! 
A bloody side, and hand, and heart ! 
But now the feild is wonne ; and tliey 
(The dust of Warra cleane wip'd away) 
The weapons now of triumph be. 
That were before of Victorie. 


T SING Impiety beyond a name : 

Who stiles it any thinge, knowes not the same. 
Dull, sluggish lie ! what more than lethargy 
Gripes thy cold limbes soe fast, thou canst not fly, 
And start from of[f] thy center ? hath Heauen's loue 
Stuft thee soe full with blisse, thou can'st not moue ? 
If soe, oh Neptune, may she farre be throwne 
By thy kind armes to a kind world vnknowne : 
Lett her surviue this day, once mock her fate. 
And shee's an island truely fortunate. 
Lett not my suppliant breath raise a nide storme 
To wrack my suite : keepe Pitty warme 
In thy cold breast, and yearely on this day 
Mine eyes a tributarj' streame shall pay. 
Dos't thou not see an exhalation 
Belch'd from the sulph'ry lungs of Phlegeton ] 
A living comet, whose pestiferous breath 
Adulterates the virgin aire ? with death 
It laboures : stifled Nature's in a swound, 
Eeady to dropp into a chaos, round 
About horror's displai'd ; It doth portend, 
That earth a shoure of stones to heauen shall send, 

' Sec our Essay remarks on this and related poems. G. 

L'l'OX THE GUNP0W1)?:RTREAS()N-. 189 

Ami crack the cliristall globe ; tlu* niilkly streanic 

Shall in a siluer raine runnc out, \vhose creaiue 

Shall choake the gaping cartli, w''' tlien shall fry 

In flames, tt of a burning feuer dy. 

That ■wonders may in fashion be, not rare, 

A Winter's thunder with a groane shall scare, 

And roure the sleepy ashes of the dead, 

^Slaking tliem skip out of their dusty bed. 

Those twinckling eyes of heauen, w'^ eu'n now shin'd, 

Shall with one flasli of lightning be struck blind. 

The sea shall change his youthfuU greene, & slide 

Along the shore in a graue purple tide. 

It does pra^sage, that a great Prince shall climbe, 

And gett a starry throne before his time. 

To vshcr in this shoale of prodigies, 

Thy infants, ^olus, will not suffice. 

Noe, noe, a giant wind, that will not spare 

To tosse poore men like dust into the aire ; 

Justle downe mountaines : Kings courts shall be sent. 

Like bandied balles, into the firmament. 

Atlas shall be tript vpp, loue's gate shall feele 

The weighty rudenes of his boysterous heele. 

All this it threats, & more : Horro"", that flies 

To th' empyraeum of aU miseries. 

Most tall hyperbole's cannot descry it ; 

Mischeife, that scornes expression should come nigh it. 

All this it only tlu-eats : the meteor ly'd ; 

It was exlialM, a while it hung, & dy'd. 


Heaucn kickt the monster downe : downe itwas th^o^vne, 

The fall of all things it jn'ajsag'd, its oune 

It quite forgott : the fearfull earth gaue way, 

And durst not touch it, heere it made noe stay. 

At last it stopt at Pluto's gloomy porch ; 

He streiglitvv'ay lighted vpp his pitchy torcli. 

Xow to those toiling soules it giues its light, 

W"*' had the happines to worke ith' night. 

They banne the blaze, & curse its curtesy. 

For lighting them vnto their misery. 

Till now Hell was imperfect ; it did need 

Some rare choice torture ; now 'tis Hell indeed. 

Then glutt thy dire lampe with the Avarniest blood. 

That runnes in violett pipes : none other food 

It can digest, then watch the wildfire weU, 

Least it breake forth, & burne thy sooty cell. 

Upon the Gunpowder-Treason. 

Reach me a quill, pluckt from the flaming ^ving 

Of Pluto's Mercury, that I may sing 

Death to the life. My inke shall be the blood 

Of Cerberus, or Alecto's viperous brood. 

Vnmated malice ! Oh vnpeer'd despight ! 

Such as the sable pinions of the night 

Neuer durst hatch before : extracted see 

The very quintessence of villanie : 

I feare to name it ; least that he, w'''' hearcs. 

Should haue his soule frighted beyond the spheers. 


Ileauen was asham'd, to see our mother Earth 
Engender with the Night, & teeme a birtli 
Soe foule, one minute's light had it but scene, 
The fresh face of the morne had blasted beene. 
Her rosy cheekes you should haue seene noe more 
Dy'd in vermilion blushes, as before : 
But in a vaile of clouds mufling her head 
A solitary life she ■would haue led. 
Aflrighted Phrebus would haue lost his way, 
Giving his wanton palfreys leaue to play 
Olympick games in the' Olympian plaines, 
His trembling hands loosing the golden raines. 
The Queene of night gott the greene sicknes then, 
Sitting soe long at ease in her darke denne, 
Not daring to peepe forth, least that a stone 
Should beate her headlong from her jetty throne. 
louc's twinckling tapers, that doe light the world, 
Had beene puft out, and from their stations liurl'd : 
JEol kept in his wrangling sonnes, least they 
With this grand blast shoidd haue bin blowne away. 
Amazed Triton, with his shrill alarmes 
Bad sporting Neptune to pluek in his armes, 
And leaue embracing of the Isles, least hee 
!Might be an actor in this Tragedy. 
Nor should wee need thy crisped wanes, for wee 
An Ocean could haue made t' haue drowned thee. 
Torrents of salt teares from our eyes should runne, 
And raise a deluge, where the flaming sunne 


yhould coole his fiery wheeles, & neuer sinke 
Soo low to giue his thirsty stallions drinke ; 
Each soule in sighes had spent its dearest breatli, 
As glad to waits vpon their King in death. 
Each Avinged chorister would swan-like sing 
A mournfuU dirge to their deceased king. 
The painted meddowes would haue laught no more 
For ioye of their neate coates ; but would haue tore 
Their sliaggy locks, their flowry mantles turn'd 
Into dire sable weeds, <fc sate, & mourn'd. 
Each stone liad streight a Xiol>e become, 
And wept amaine ; then rear d a costly tombe, 
T' entonibe the lab'ring earth. For surely shee 
Had died just in her deliuery. 
But when loue's winged heralds this espied, 
Vpp to th' Almighty thunderer they hied. 
Relating this sad storjf. Streight way hee 
The monster crusht, maugre their midwiferie. 
And may such Pythons neuer Hue to see 
The Liglit's faire face, but stiU abortiue bee. 

Upon the Gunpowder-Treason. 

Grow plumpe, leane Death ; his HoUnesse a feast 
Hath now pncpar'd, <t you maist be his guest. 
Come grimme Destruction, & in purple gore 
Dye seu'n times deeper than they were before 
Thy scarlet robes : for heere you must not share 
A coihon banquett : noe, heere's princely fare. 


Ami least thy blood-shott eyes .should lead asiilc 

This masse of cruelty, to be tliy guiile 

Three coleblack sisters, (whose long sutty haire, 

And greisly visages doe fright the aire ; 

When Night beheld them, shame did almost turne 

Her sable cheekes into a blushing morne. 

To see some fowler than herself e) these stand, 

Each holding forth to liglit the aery brand, 

Wliose purer flames tremble to be soe nigh, 

And in fell hatred burning, angry dy. 

Sly, lurking treason is his bosome freind, 

AVliom faint, & palefac't Foare doth still attend. 

These need noe invitation, onely thou 

Black dismall Horro', come ; make perfect now 

Th' epitome of Plell : oh lett thy pinions 

Be a gloomy canopy to Pluto's minions. 

In this infernall Majesty close shrowd 

Your selues, you Stygian states ; a pitchy clowd 

Shall hang the roome, & for your tapers bright, 

Sulphureous flames, snatch'd from reternall night. 

But rest, aftrighted Muse ; thy siluer wings 

May not row neerer to these dusky rings.^ 

Cast back some amorous glances on the cates, 

That heere are dressing by the hasty Fates, 

Nay stopp thy clowdy eyes, it is not good, 

To drowne tl:y selfe in this pure pearly flood. 

1 May be 'kings;' Ijut the ms. doubtful. G. 


But since they are for fire-workes, rather proue 
A phenix, & in chastest flames of loue 
Oifer thy selfe a virgin sacrifice 
To quench the rage of hellish deities. 

But dares Destruction eate these candid breasts, 
The Muses, & the Graces sugred neasts t 
Dares hungry Death snatch of one cherry lipp 1 
Or thirsty Treason offer once to sippe 
One dropp of this pure nectar, w'*" doth flow 
In azure channells warme tlirongh mounts of snow ? 
The roses fresh, conserued from the rage, 
And crueU ravishing of frosty age, 
Feare is afraid to tast of : only this. 
He humbly crau'd to banquett on a kisse, 
Poore meagre horro' streightwaies was amaz'd. 
And in the stead of feeding stood, & gaz'd. 
Their appetites were gone at th' uery sight ; 
But yet theire eyes surfett with sweet delight. 
Only the Pope a stomack still could find ; 
But yett they were not powder'd to his mind. 
Forth-with each god stept from his starry throne, 
And snatch'd away the banquett ; euery one 
Convey'd liis sweet delicious treasury 
To the close closet of eternity : 
Where they will safely keepe it, from the rude. 
And rugged touch of Pluto's multitude. 

Secular |poctrg. 




For the title-page of ' The Delights of the MuBes' see Note 
immeiliatcly before the original Preface, and our Pi-eface on 
the classification of the several jioems. G. 


Now "Westward Sol had spent the richest beams [ 

Of Xoon's high ghiry, when hard by the streams 
Of Tiber, on the sceane of a greene plat, 
Vnder protection of an oake, there sate 
A sweet Lute's-master ; in whose gentle aires 5 

He lost the daye's heat, and his owne hot cares. 
Close in the covert of the leaves there stood 
A Nightingale, come from the neighbouring wood : 
(The sweet inhabitant of each glad tree, 
Their Muse, their Syren — harmlesse Syren she !) i o 
There stood she listning, and did entertaine 
The musick's soft report, and mold the same 
In her owne niurmures, that what ever mood 
llis cnrious fingers lent, her voyce made good : 

1 Appeared originally in ' nelii,'lits' of 1646 (pp. 103-7): was re- 
printed in 1648 (pp. 1-5), and 1670 (pp. 81-6). Our text is that of 
1648, as before; but all agree. See Notes and Illustrations at close 
of this poem for other two earlier translations, and our Essay for the 
original Latin, with critical remarks. In our illustrated quarto edi- 
tion will be found a pathetic and danitily-rendcred illustration, done 
expressly for us by Mrs. i31ackburn of Glasgow, and engraved by 
W. J. Linton, Esq. G. 

198 musick's duell. 

'J'hc man perceiv'd his riv.all, and her art ; 1 5 

DisposM to give tlie light-foot lady sport, 

Awakes his lute, and 'gainst the fight to come 

Tnformes it in a sweet pneludium 

Of closer straines, and ere the warre begin. 

He light]^' skirmishes on every string, 20 

Charg'd witli a flying touch : and streightway she 

Carves out her dainty voyce as readily, 

Into a thousand sweet distinguish'd tones. 

And reckons up iu soft divisions, 

Quicke volumes of wild notes ; to let him know 25 

By that shrill taste, she could do something too. 

His nimble hands' instinct then taught each string 
A capring cheerefullnesse ; and made them sing 
To their owne dance ; now negligently rash 
He throwes his arme, and with a long drawne dash 30 
Blends all together ; then distinctly tripps 
From this to that ; then quicke returning skipps 
And snatches this again, and pauses there. 
Shee measures every measure, every where 
Meets art with art; sometimes as if in doubt 35 

Not perfect yet, and fearing to be out, 
Trayles her plaine ditty in one long-spun note. 
Through the sleeke passage of her open throat, 
A cleare imwrinckled song ; then doth shee point it 
With tender accents, and severely joynt it 40 

By short diminutives, that being rear'd 
In controverting warbles evenly shar'd. 


With her sweet solfe shoo -wrangles. Ilee amazed 

That from so small a chaunell sliould be rais'd 

Tlie torrent of a voyce, whose melody 45 

Could melt into such sweet variety^ 

Straines higher yet ; that tickled witli rare art 

The tatling strings (each breathing in liis part) 

]\[ost kindly doe fall out ; the grumbling base 

In surly groans disdaines the treble's grace ; 50 

The high-i)erch't treble chirps at this, and chides, 

Vntill his finger (Moderatour) hides 

And closes the sweet quarrell, rowsing all, 

Hoarce, shrill at once ; as when the trumpets call 

Hot Mars to th' harvest of Death's field, and woo 55 

Men's hearts into their hands : this lesson too 

Shee gives him back ; her supple brest thrills out 

Sharpe aires, and staggers in a warbling doubt 

Of dallying sweetnesse, hovers o're her skill. 

And folds in wav'd notes with a trembling bill 60 

The plyaut series of her slippery song ; 

Then starts shee suddenly into a throng 

Of short, thicke sobs, whose thundring volleycs float 

And roule themselves over her lubrick throat 

In panting murmurs, 'still'd out of her breast, 65 

That ever-bubling spring ; the sugred nest 

Of her delicious soule, that there does lye 

Bathing in streames of liquid melodic ; 

Musick's best seed-plot, whence in ripen'd aires 

A golden-headed harvest fairely reares 70 

200 musick's duel:-. 

His honey-dropping tops, plow'd by her breath, 

AVhich there reciprocally laboureth 

In that sweet soyle ; it secmes a holy quire 

Founded to th' name of great Apollo's lyre, 

Whose silver-roofe rings with the sprightly notes 7 5 

Of sweet-lijip'd angel-inips, that swill their throats 

In creame of moi'ning Helicon, and then 

Prefcrre soft-anthems to the eares of men, 

To woo them from their beds, still nmrniuring 

That men can slcepe while they their niattens sing : 80 

(Most divine service) whose so early lay. 

Prevents the eye-lidds of the blushing Day ! 

There you might heare her kindle her soft voyce, 

In the close murmur of a sparkling noyse. 

And lay the ground-worke of her hopefuU song, 85 

Still keeping in the forward streame, so long, 

Till a sweet whirle-wind (striving to get out) 

Heaves her soft bosome, wanders round about, 

And makes a pretty earthquake in her breast. 

Till the fledg'd notes at length forsake their nest, 90 

Fluttering in wanton shoales, and to the sky 

Wing'd with theii' owne wild ecchos, pratling fly. 

Shee opes the floodgate, and lets loose a tide 

Of streaming sweetnesse, Avhich in state doth ride 

On the wav'd backe of every swelling straine, 95 

liising and falling in a pompous traine. 

And while she thus discharges a shrill peale 

Of flashing aires ; she qualities their zeale 

musick's duell. 201 

Witli tlic coole epodc of a graver nout, 

Thus high, thus low, as if her silver throat loo 

Would reach the brazen voycc of War's hoarcc bird ; 

Jler little soule is ravisht : and so pour'd 

Into loose extasies, that she is plac't 

Above her selfe, Musick's Enthusiast. 

Shame now and anger mixt a double staino 105 
In the Musitian's face ; yet once againe 
(Mistresse) I come ; now reach a strainc my lute 
Above her mocke, or be for ever mute ; 
<Jr tune a song of victory to me, 

Or to thy selfe, sing thine own obsequie : 110 

So said, his hands sprightly as fire, he flings 
And with a quavering coynesse tasts the strings. 
The sweet-lip't sisters, musically frighted, 
Singing their feares, are fearefuUy delighted. 
Trembling as when Appolo'.s golden haires 1 1 5 

Are fan'd and frizled, in the wanton ayres 
Of his own breath : which marryed to his lyre 
Doth tune the spheares, and make Heaven's selfe looke 
Erom this to that, from that to this he flyes. [higher. 
Feeles ^lusick's pulse in all her arteryes ; 120 

Caught in a net which there Apollo spreads. 
His fingers struggle with the vocall threads. 
Following those little rills, he sinkes into 
A sea of Helicon ; his hand does goe 
Those patlics of sweetnesse which with nectar drop, i 2 5 
Softer than that which pants in Hebe's cup. 

VOL. I. 1)1) 

202 musick's uueu>. 

The liuiiioin-oiis strings expound his learned touch, 

By various glosses ; now they seeme to grutch, 

And murmur in a buzzing dinne, then gingle 

In shrill-tongu'd accents : striving to be single. i ,^o 

Every smootli lurne, every delicious stroake 

Gives life to sonn; new grace ; thus doth li' invoke 

Sweetnessc by all her names ; thus, bravely thus 

(Fraught with a fury so harmonious) 

The lute's light genius now does proudly rise, 135 

Heav'd on the surges of swolne rapsodyes, 

Whose flourish (meteor-like) doth curie the aire 

With flash of higli-borne fancyes : here and there 

Dancing in lofty measures, and anon 

Creeps on the soft touch of a tender tone ; t 40 

Whose tremblhig murmurs melting in wild aires 

Runs to and fro, complaining liis sweet cares, 

Because those 'pretious mysteryes that dwell 

In Musick's ravish't soule, he dares not tell, 

But whisper to tlie world : thus doe they vary 145 

Each string his note, as if they meant to carry 

Their ]\Iaster's blest soule (snatcht out at his eares 

By a strong extasy) through all the sphearcs 

Of ^Musick's heaven ; and seat it there on high 

In th' empyraium of pure harmony. 1 5 o 

At length (after so long, so loud a strife 

Of all the strings, still breathing the best life 

Of blest variety, attending on 

Ilis fincjers fairest revolution 

musuk's dl'ell. 203 

In many a sweet rise, many as sweet a fall) 155 

A full inouth'd diapason swallowes all. 

This done, he lists what she would say to this. 
And she, (although her breath's late exercise 
Had dealt too roughly with her tender throato,) 
Yet summons all her sweet powers for a noatc. 1 60 
Alas ! in vaine ! for while (sweet soule !) she tryes 
To measure all those wild diversities 
Of chatt'ring strings, by the small size of one 
Poore simple voyce, rais'd in a naturall tone ; 
She failes, and failing grieves, and grieving dyes. 165 
She dyes : and leaves her life the Victor's prise, 
Falling upon his lute : O, fit to liave 
(That liv'd so sweetly) dead, so sweet a grave ! 


In our Essay we give the original Latin of this very re- 
markable poem, that the student may see how Ceashaw has 
ennobled and transiigxu'ed Strada. Still further to show how 
much wc owe to oui" Poet, I pi-int here fa) An anonymous trans- 
lation, which I discovered at the British Museum in Additional 
Mss. 19.268; never before printed. {&) Sli'Fkancis Woetley's 
translation from his ' Characters and Elegies' (1646). In the 
foi-mer I have been obliged to leave one or two words unfilled- 
in as illegible in the ms. 

{a) The Musicke Warre between y^ Fidhr and the Nir/htinf/ale. 

Nowe had greate Sol y« middle orbe forsooke 

When as a fidler bj- a slidinge brooke 

With shadie bowers was guarded from y« aire 

And on his lidle plaid away liis care. 

A nightingale hid in tlie leaues there stood 

Tlic muse and harmcles Svren of the wood ; 

204 musick's uuell. 

Shcc snatcht y» soundes and with an echo prates : 

What liis hand playdc her voice reiterates. 

Percejivinge how }•<• listninge bird did sit 

V« tidier faiiie wouM make sonic sport w^ith it, 

And neately stroke y» lute ; then she began 

And through those notes ran glib division ; 

Then with rjuicke hand he strikes y" tremblingc strings, 

Now with a skilfull negligence he flings 

His carelesse armes, then softly playes his part : 

Then shce begins and answers art with art, 

And now as if vncertaine how to singe 

Lengthens her notes and choisest art doth bringe, 

And interminglinge softer notes with shrill 

Daintily quavers through her trembling bill. 

Y" tidier wonders such meloilious notes 

Shold haue proceedinges from soe slender throats : 

Trj-es her againe, then loudly spoke yo 

Sometimes graue were y^ tones, sometimes 

Then high, then lowe againe, y" sweetly iarrs 

Just like a trumpet callinge men to warrs. 

Thus did y" daiiity Philomela doe 

And with hoarse voice sange an alarme too. 

The fidler blusht, and al in ragg [i.e. rage] he went 

About to breake his conquerfed instrument. 

But yet suspectinge lest ambitious shee 

Shold to the woods warble herVictory ; 

Strikes with inimitable blowcs 

And flies through all the strings, now these, now those. 

Then tryes the notes, labours in each strajnie 

And then expects if shee replyed agayne. 

The poore hannonious bird now almost dombe, 

But impatient, to be overcome 

Calls her sweet strength together all in vajTie, 

For while shee thinkes to imitate each strayne 

In pure and natiue language, in this strife 

And daj-ntie musicke-warre shee left her life. 

And yeldinge to the gladsome conquerour 

Falls in his tidle : a tit sepulcberc. 

musick'8 ni'Kij,. 205 

(/') From ' Characlers and Eleyles: By Francis Worthy, k„i<iht and 
haronet : 1016 (p. OC). A Paraphrase upon the Vases which 
Famianus Strada mmlc of the Lutanist and PhUomtll in Con- 

'When past the miiUile orbc the parching sun 
Ilail downward nearer our horizon run 
A Luteuist neare Tiber's strcaines had found 

Where the eccho did rcsoimd. 
Under a hohne a shady bower he made 
To ease his cares, his severall phancies play'd ; 
The philomell no sooner did the musicke hear 

But straight-wayes she drew neare. 
Tlie harmlesse Syren, musicke of the wood, 
Hid in a leavy-bush, she hearking stood, 
She ruminates upon the ayers he plaid, 
And to him answers made. 
With her shirl voyce doth all his paines requite 
Lost not one note, but to his play sung right ; 
Well pleased to heare her skil, and envy, he 

Trj-es his variety. 
And dares her with his severall notes, runs throw 
Even all the strains his skill could reach unto : 
A thousand wayes he trj-es : she answers all. 
And for new straj'nes dares call. 
He could not touch a string in such a strainc, 
To which she warble and not sung it plaine; 
His iingers could not reach to greater choice, 

Then she did with her voyce. 
The Lutenist admired her narrow throat 
Could reach so high or fall to any note : 
But that which he did thinke ui her most strange. 

She mstantly could change. 
Or sharpe or flat, or meane, or quicke, or slow, 
What ere he plaid, she the like skill would show : 
And if he inward did his notes recall. 
She answer made to all. 
Th' inraged Lutenist, he blusht for shame 
• That he could not this weake corrivall tame : 
If thou canst answer this I'lc breakc my lute, 
And yeild in the dispute. 

206 musick's duell. 

lie said 110 more, but aimes at such a height 
Of skill, lie thought she could not imitate : 
He shows the utmost cunning of his hand 

And all he could command. 
He trj'es his strenglh. his active lingers flye 
To every string and stop, now low. now high, 
And higher yet he multiplyes his skill. 

Then doth his chorus fill. 
Then he expecting stands to trj- if she 
His envy late would yeeld the victory : 
She would not yeeld, but summons all her force 

Though tyred out and hoarse. 
She strives with various strings the lute's hast chest 
The spirit of man, one narrow throat and chest : 
Unequal matches, yet she's pleased that she 

Concludes victorioush'. 
Her spirit was such she would not live to heare 
The Lutenist bestow on her a jeere, 
Ihit broken-hearted fall upon the tombe 

She choose the sweet lute's wombc. 
The warbling lutes doe yet their triumphs fell 
(With niounifidl accents) of the philomell, 
And have usurpt the title ever since, 

Of harmony the prince. 
The niorall this, by emulation Avee 
May much improve both art and industry, 
Though she deserve the name of Philomell 

Yet men must her excell.' 

A third (anonymous) translation, with the Latin on the 
opposite pages, I came on in Lassdowne mss. 3i(10, PI. Ixvi. 
from which extracts wiU be found in our Essay. 

In the Sanchoft lis. the heading is ' Fidicinis et PhilomelaB 
Belliim Musicum. R. Cit.' It reads in line 79 ' whence" for 
'where;' adopted: line 125, ' pathes' for 'parts;' adopted: 
other variations only orthogi-aphic, as is the case with the dif- 
ferent editions. I note these : in 1670, line 83 reads ' might 
you :' line 91), KIK) misprints ' gi'ave :' line 150, oiu- text mis- 
prints ' fuU-moiith,' and so 1(j46 ; 1 adopt ' full-mouth'd' from 
lfi70 and Sanckoft ms. G. 



All trees, all leavy groves confesse the Spring i 

Their gentlest friend ; then, then the lands begin 

To swell with forward pride, and feed desire 

To generation ; Heaven's Almiglity Sire 

Melts on the bosome of His love, and powres 5 

Himselfe into her laji in friiitfidl showers. 

iVnd by a soft insinuation, mixt 

With Earth's large masse, doth cherish and assist 

Her weake conceptions, ^o lone shade but rings 

With chairing birds' delicious murmurings ; i o 

Then Venus' mild instinct (at set times) yields 

The herds to kindly meetings, then the fields 

(Quick with warme Zepliyre's lively breath) lay forth 

Theii- pregnant bosomes in a fragrant birth. 

Each body's plump and jucy, all things full 1 5 

Of supple moisture : no coy twig but will 

1 Appeared originally in the 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 110-1), and 
was reprinted in editions 1648 (pp. 7-8) and 1670 (pp. 106-7). Our 
text is that of 1648, as before, with the exception of 'gentlest' for 
'gentle' from 1646 edition (line 2d), which is contirnied by the Sajj- 
CROFT MS. The MS. in line 10 reads 'chatting:' line 16, I have 
corrected the usual reading of 'bosome' by 'blosome,' from the Sax- 
croft MS. The heading of the Ms. is 'E Virg. Georg. particula. 
In laudem Veris. K. Cr.' i.e. Georg. ii. 323-345. G. 

208 WITH A ricTUUE sent to a friexk. 

Trust his beloved blossome to the sun 

(Cirowne lusty now) : no vine so weakc and young 

That feares the foule-mouth'd Auster or those stormes 

That the Southwest-wind hurries in his armes, 20 

But liasts her forward blossomes, and layes out 

Freely layes out her leaves : nor doe I doubt 

But when the world first out of chaos sprang 

So smil'd the dayes, and so the tenor ran 

Of their felicity. A Spring was there, 25 

An everlasting Spring, the jolly yeare 

Led round in his great circle ; no wind's breath 

As then did smell of Winter or of Death. 

'\^^len Life's sweet light first shone on beasts, and when 

From their hard mother Earth, sprang hardy men, 30 

Wlien beasts tooke up their lodging in the Wood, 

Starres in their higher chambers : never cou'd 

The tender growth of things endure the sence 

Of such a change, but that the Heav'ns indulgence 

Kindly supplyes sick Xature, and doth mold 35 

A sweetly-temper'd meane, nor hot nor cold. 


I PAiXT so ill, my peece had need to be i 

Painted againe by some good poesie. 

' Appeared originally in the 'Deliphts" of 164G (pp.111): wiis re- 
printed in lG-18 (p. S) and 1670 (p. 107). Our text is that of 1G48, 
as before ; but all agree. G. 


I write so ill, my slender line is scarce 

So much as th' picture of a well-lim'd verse : 

Yet may the love I send be true, though I 5 

Send not true picture, nor true poesie. 

Both which away, I should not need to feare, 
My love, or feign'd or pamted should appeare. 


GoE now, with some dareing drugg, i 

Baite thy disease, and wliile they tugg, 

Thou, to maintaine their cruell strife 

Spend the deare treasure of thy life : 

Goe take physicke, doat upon 5 

Some big-nam'd composition, — 

The oraculous doctors' mistick bills, 

Certain hard words made into pills ; 

And what at length shalt get by these 1 

Onely a costlyer disease. 10 

1 Our text is from the ' Hj'giasticon' of Lessius in the English 
translation of 163G. the title-page of which is as follows : ' Hygi- 
asticon : or the right course of preserving Life and Health unto 
extream old Age : Together with soundnesse and integritie of the 
Senses, ludgement, and Memorie. Written in Latine by Leonard 
Lessiis, and now done into English. The third Edition. Cam- 
bridge, 1G36.' [4"2mo.] It is there entitled 'To the Reader, upon 
the Book's intent,' and begins at line 15 ; these opening lines being 
taken from the ' Delights' of 1646 (pp. 112-3). See our Essay for 
remarks on this poem, and at close Notes and various readings. G. 

vor.. I. EE 


Goe poore man, thinke what shall bee 
Remedie 'gainst tliy remedie. 
That which makes us have no need 
Of phisick, that's phisick indeed. 

Heark hither, Reader : would'st thou see 1 5 

Nature her own physician be ? 
AVould'st see a man all his own wealth, 
His ovm. musick, his own health? 
A man, whose sober soul can teU 
How to wear her garments well ? 20 

Her garments, that upon her sit, 
(As garments shoiild do) close and fit ? 
A well-clothed soul, that's not opprest 
Nor choked Avith what she should be drest ? 
Whose soul's sheath'd in a crystall shrine, 25 

Through which all her bright features shine ? 
As when a piece of wanton lawn, 
A thin aerial vail is dra^m, 
O're Beauty's face ; seeming to hide. 
More sweetly shows the blushing bride : 30 

A sold, whose intellectuall beams 
No mists do mask, no lazie steams ? 
A happie soul, that all the way 
To Heav'n, hath a Summer's day? 
Would'st see a man whose well-warm'd bloud 35 
Bathes him in a genuine floud ? 
A man, whose tuned humours be 
' A set of rarest harmonic 1 


Would'st see blithe looks, fresh cheeks beguile 

Age ? Would'st see December smile ? 40 

AVoulJ'st see a nest of roses grow 

In a bed of reverend snow ? 

"Warm thoughts, free spirits, flattering 

"Winter's self into a Spring 1 

In summe, woidd'st see a man that can 45 

Live to be old, and still a man 1 

"Whose latest, and most leaden houres, 

Eall with soft wings, stuck with soft flowres ; 

And when Life's sweet fable ends, 

His soul and bodie part like friends : 50 

Xo quarrels, murmures, no delay : 

A kisse, a sigh, and so away? 

This rare one, Reader, would'st thou see, 

Heark liither : and thyself be he. 


Besides the reprint of 1646 as supra, this poem appeared in 
1648 (pp. 8, 9), 16.5'2 (pp. 126-8i, where it is entitled ' Temper- 
ance. Of the Cheap Physitian, vpon the Translation of Lessivs 
(pp. 126-8) :' and 1670 (pp. 108-9 and pp. 207-8, being inadvert- 
ently printed twice). These variations are noticeable : 

Line 1, in 1648 and 1652, ' Goe now and with . . . .' 
,, 2, in 1670, ' the' for 'thj^;' and Turnbull, as usual, 
repeats the error. 

Line 3, in 1648 ' pretious' for ' cruel :' so 1670 in 2d copy. 
,, 9, ib. ' last' for ' length,' and 1670 ' gaine' for ' get' 
in 2d copy. 

Lines 11, 12, this couplet is inadvei'tently dropped in 1648. 
I adopt ' 'gainst' for ' against" from Sancroit ms. Ln Une 12. 

Line 15, ib. 'wilt' for ' wouldst.' 
„ 18, ' physick' in 1646, 1648 and 1670 (1st copy) ; but 


' musick' is assuredly the finer reading, as in Hygiasticon and 
1670 (in 2d copy). Cf. lines 19, 20, onward, which show that 
' music' was intended. 

Line 25, in all the three editions ' a' for ' whose :' in 1670 
(2d copy) 'A soul sheath'd . . . .' 

Line 34, in 1646 ' bath' for ' rides in,' and so in 1670 (1st 
copy) : ' hath' seems the simpler and better. 

Line 35, 1646 and 1670 misiusert ' thou' before ' see.' 
,, 38, ' set' for ' seat' in the three editions (1670, 1st copy) ; 

Line 41, in 1648 ' Would'st see nests of new roses grow :' 
so 1670 (2d copy). 

Line 46, 1646 and 1670 end here. 

Leonard Lessius was a learned Jesuit, born 1st October 1554, 
and died 15th Jannai-y 1623-4. He was professor of theology in 
the Universitj' of Louvaine. His ' Hygiasticon, sen vera ratio 
valetudinis bonae et vitae' is still readable and quick. G. 


TuE smiling Morne had newly wak't the Day, i 

And tipt the mountaines with a tender ray : 
When on a hill (whose high imperious brow 
Lookes doAvne, and sees the humble Nile below 

1 Appeared originally in 'Delights' of 1646 (p. 114): was re- 
printed in 1648 (p. 10) and 1670 (pp. 109-110). Our text is that of 
1648 ; but all agree. Our Poet has turned the prose of the original 
into verse (yEthiopica, lib. i. cap. 1). There was an early English 
translation of the whole, as follows : ' Heliodorus, his Jithiopian 
Historj": Done out of Greekc, and compared with other Translations. 
1622' [quarto]. In line 2, 1G46 and 1670 read 'in' for 'with :' line 
7, 1646 misprints 'thy' for 'they.' The heading in the S.\xc'Roft 
MS. is 'The faire Ethiopian, R. Cr.' Tvrxbili, perpetuates 1670's 
misprint of ' in' for ' with' in line 2, and adds one of his own in line 
26, by misprinting ' guest' for ' guests.' G. 


Licke liis proud feet, and haste into the seas 5 

Tlu'ough the great mouth that's nam'd from Hercules) 
A baud of men, rougli as the armes they Avore 
Look't round, first to the sea, then to the shore. 
The shore that shewed them, what the sea deny'd, 
Hope of a prey. There to the mainc-land ty'd i o 

A ship they saw ; no men she had, yet prest 
Appear'd with other lading, for her brest 
Deep in the groaning waters wallowed 
Vp to the third ring : o'rc the shore was spread 
Death's purple triumph ; on the blushing ground 1 5 
Life's late forsaken houses all lay drown'd 
In their owne blood's deare deluge : some new dead ; 
Some panting in their yet warme ruines bled, 
While their afii-ighted soules, now wing'd for flight 
Lent them the last flash of her glimmering light. 20 
Those yet fresh streames which crawled every where 
Shew'd that sterne Warre liad newly bath'd him there. 
Nor did the face of this disaster show 
Markes of a fight alone, but feasting too : 
A miserable and a monstruous feast, 25 

"Where hungry Warre had made liimself a guest : 
And comming late had eat up guests and all, 
'Who prov'd the feast to their owne funerall &c. 



Love is lost, nor can his mother i 

Her little fugitive discover : • 

She seekes, she sighes, but no where spyes him ; 
I>ove is lost : and thus shee cryes him. 

yes ! if any happy eye, 5 

This roaving wanton shall descry ; 
Let the finder surely know 
Mine is the wagge ; 'tis I that owe 
The wingid wand'rer ; and that none 
May thinke his labour vainely gone, i o 

The glad descryer shall not misse, 
To tast the nectar of a kisse 
From Venus lipps. But as for him 
That brings him to me, he shall swim 
In riper joyes : more shall be his 15 

(Venus assures him) than a kisse. 
But lest your ej'e discerning sUde, 
Tliese markes may be your judgement's guide; 

1 Appeared originally in the 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 115-117): 
was reprmtcd 1648 (pp. 11-13) and 1670 (pp. 110-112). Our text is 
that of 1648; but all agree, save as follows: 1646 misprints "cease' 
for ' ceaze" = seize, in line 17 from end: and 1670. line 8 from be- 
ginning, misprints 'own' for 'owe;' the latter perpetuated by TiRS- 
BULL. The poem is an interpretation of the tirst idyll of Moschus. 
Line 5, ' O yes' = the legal oyiez : line 8, ' owe' = own. G. 

CUriu's CUYER. 21. ') 

I lis skin as with a fiery blushing 

High-colonrM is ; his eyes still flushing 20 

"With nimble flames ; and though liis mind 

I>e ne're so curst, his tongue is kind : 

For never ■were his words in ought 

Found the pure issue of his thought. 

The working bees' soft melting gold, 25 

That which their waxen mines enfold, 

Flow not so sweet as doe the tones 

Of his tun'd accents ; but if once 

His anger kindle, presently 

It boyles out into cruelty, 30 

And fraud : he makes poor mortalls' hurts 

The objects of his cruell sports. 

With dainty curies his fro ward face 

Is crown'd about : But what place, 

"What farthest nooke of lowest Hell 3 5 

Feeles not the strength, the reaching spell 

Of Ills small hand 1 Yet not so small 

As 'tis powerfuU therewithal!. 

Though bare his skin, his mind he covers, 

And like a saucy bird he hovers 40 

With wanton wing, now here, now there, 

'Bout men and women, nor will spare 

Till at length he perching rest, 

In the closet of their brest. 

His weapon is a little bow, 4 5 

Yet such a one as — Jove knows how— 

210 Cupid's cryeb. 

Ne're suflFred, yet his little arrow, 

Of Heaven's high'st arches to fall narrow. 

The gold that on his quiver smiles, 

Deceives men's feares with flattering wUes. 50 

But — too well my wounds can tell — 

With bitter shafts 'tis sauc't too well. 

He is all cruell, cruell all, 

His torch imperious though but small 

Makes the sunne — of flames the sire — 55 

Worse than sun-burnt in his fire. 

Wheresoe're you chance to find him 

Ceaze him, bring him — but first bind him — 

Pitty not him, but feare thy selfe 

Though thou see the crafty elfe, 60 

Tell down his silver-drops unto thee : 

They'r counterfeit, and will undoe thee. 

With baited smiles if he display 

His fawning cheeks, looke not that way. 

If he oSer sugred kisses, 65 

Start, and say, the serpent hisses. 

Draw him, drag him, though he pra}' 

Wooe, intreat, and crying say 

Prethee, sweet, now let me go. 

Here's my quiver, shafts and bow, 70 

rie give thee all, take all ; take heed 

Lest his kindnesse make thee bleed. 

What e're it be Loue off'ers, still presume 
That though it sliines, 'tis fire and will consume. 


This reverend shadow cast that setting sun, i 

Whose glorious course thn)ugh our horrizon run, 
Left the dinime face of this dull heniispheare, 
All one great eye, all drowu'd in one great teare. 
A^Hiose faire, illustrious soulc, led his free thought 5 
Through Learning's vniverse, and (vainly) sought 
Room for her spatious selfe, untill at length 
Shee found the way home, with an holy strength ; 
Snatch't her self hence to Heaven : fill'd a bright place, 
'^longst those immortall fires, and on the face i o 

Of her great Maker fixt her flaming eye, 
There still to read true, pure divinity. 

1 The first edition of Bishop Andrewes' Sermons was published 
in 1629. Its title was 'XCVI Sermons by the Kight Honourable and 
Reverend Father in God, Launcelot Andrewes, late Lord Bishop of 
Winchester.' It is dedicated to the King by Laud and Buckeridge, 
Bishop of Ely, the latter adding a funeral sermon. It has no frontis- 
piece. Lowndes, as other bibliographers, does not seem to have 
known the edition of 1629. He calls that of 1631 the first, while it 
was the second; and he says it had a frontispiece, which is incor- 
rect, if I may judge from a number of copies personally examined. 
The third edition (1635) I have not seen: but in the quarto (1641) 
appears a frontispiece-portrait, having the lines above, but no name 
or initials. Line 8 TiKxnti.i. misprints • and, with holy." G. 

VOL. 1. FF 


And now that grave aspect hath deign'd to shrinke 
Into this lesse appearance : If you thinke 
'Tis but a dead face, Art doth here bequeath : 1 5 

Looke on the following leaves, and see him breatli. 


Faitiji.esse and fond IMortality ! i 

Wlio will ever credit thee 1 

Fond, and faithlesse thing ! tliat thus, 

In our best liopeis beguilest us. 

Wliat a reckoning hast thou made, 5 

( )f the hopes in him we laid ! 

For life by volumes lengthened, 

A line or two to speake him dead. 

For the lauroU in his verse, 

The sullen cypresse o're his her.'ic cih/m' i o 

For soe many hoped j'eares 

Of fruit, soe many fruitles teares : 

1 Appeared originally in "Steps' of 1C46 (pp. .31-2): was reprinteil 
in 1648 'Delights' (pp. 18-19) ami 1070 (pp. 8G-7). Our text is that 
of 1648 ; but all agree. The Sasckoft .ms. gives us the name of the 
' gentleman' celebrated, being thus headed, ' In obituni desideratissinii 
M" Chambers. Coll. Reginal. Socij. R. Cu. ;" and in the margin in the 
archbishop's hand, ' The title and Name not in y« print.' The same 
MS. supplies us with lines ll-l'i and 21-22. never before printed. 
This MS. in line 23 reads 'If yet at least he' .... and in line .32. 
'are' for 'be.' Only other slight ortliographic differences. G. 


For a silver-crownetl head 

A durty pillow in Death's bed. 

For so deare, so deep a trust, 1 5 

Sad requitall, thus much dust ! 

^ow though the blow that snatch him hence, 

Stopt the mouth of Eloquence : 

Though shee be dunibe e're since his death, 

Not us'd to speake but in his breath ; 20 

Leaving his death vngarnishM 

Therefore, because hee is dead 

Yet if at least shee not denyes. 

The sad language of our eyes, 

Wee are contented : for then this 25 

Language none more fluent is. 

Xutliing speakes our griefe so well 

As to speak nothing. Come then tell 

Thy mind in teares who e're thou be, 

That ow'st a name to misery. 30 

Eyes arc vocall, teares have tongues, 

^\jid there be words not made with lungs ; 

Sententious showres : O let them fall, 

Theu" cadence is rhetorical!. 

Here's a theame will drinke th' expence, 3 =; 

Of all thy watry eloquence. 

Wcepe then ! onely be exprest 

Thus much, ' he's dead:' and weejj the rest. 


A PLANT of noble steinine, forward and faire, i 

As ever whisper'd to the morning aire, 

Thriv'd in these happie grounds; the Earth's just pride ; 

Whose rising glories made such haste to hide 

His head in cloudes, as if in him alone 5 

Impatient Nature had taught motion 

To start from Time, and cheerfully to fly 

Before, and seize upon Maturity. 

Thus grew this gratious tree, in whose sweet shade 

The sunne himselfe oft wisht to sit, and made 

The morning Muses perch like birds, and sing 

Among his branches : yea, and vow'd to bring 

His owne delicious phoenix from the blest 

Arabia, there to build her virgin nest. 

To hatch her selfe in ; 'mongst his leaves, the Day 

Fresh from the rosie East, rejoyc't to play ; 



1 Appeared oriRinallv in the 'Steps' of IGIG (pp. :J2-3) : was re- 
printed in 1648 ' Delifihts- (pp. l!»--20) and 1671) (pp. 87-9). Our 
text is that of 1648; but all afrree. See our ICssay. as before, for 
notice of Heruys or Hakris. In the San.kojt ms. the heading is 
'In ejusdera pra^matur. obifi. AllcKoricum. R. Ck.:' and line 9 reads 
' tree for ' plant ;' adopted. For a short Latiu poem added here, see 
our vol. ii. O. 


To them shee gave the first and fairest beame 
That \vait«il on her birth : she gave to them 
The purest jiearles, that wept her evening death ; 
The bahny Zephirus got so sweet a breath 20 

By often kissing thorn. And now begun 
Glad Time to ripeiv Expectation : 
The timorous maideu-blossomes on each bough 
Peept forth from their first blushes ; so that now 
A thousand ruddy hopes smil'd in each bud, 25 

And flatter'd every greedy eye that stood 
Fixt in delight, as if already there 
Tliose rare fruits dangled, whence the golden Yeare 
His crowne expected : Avhen, (0 Fate ! O Time ! 
That seldome lett'st a blushing youthfull prime 30 
Hide lus hot beames in shade of silver age. 
So rare is hoary Vertue) the dire rage 
Of a mad storme these bloomy joyes all tore, 
Ravisht the maiden blossoms, and downe bore 
The trunke. Yet in this ground his pretious root 35 
Still lives, which when weake Time shall be pour'd out 
Into Eternity, and circular joyes 
Dance in an endlesse round, again shall rise 
The faire son of an ever-youthfull Spring, 
To be a shade for angels while they sing ; 40 

'Meane while who e're thou art that passest here, 
O doe thou water it with one kind teare. 


Death, what dost ? O, hold thy blow, i 

AMiat thou dost thou dost not know. 

Death, thou must not here be cruell, 

This is Nature's choycest iewell : 

This is hee, in whose rare frame 5 

Nature laboiu-'d for a name : 

And meant to leave his j^retious feature 

The patterne of a perfect creature. 

loy of Goodnesse, love of Art, 

N'ertue weares him next her heart. 1 o 

Him the Muses love to follow. 

Him they call their vice-Apollo. 

Apollo, golden though thou bee, 

Th' art not fairer than is hee, 

Xor more lovely lift'st thy head 1 5 

(Blushing) from tliine Easterne bed. 

The glories of thy youth ne're knew 

Brighter hopes than his can shew. 

1 Appi'iiieil orit;'iiially ill 'Steps' (if IG 10 (pp. ;!3-o): was repriiiicd 
in UUH • Deli^lits" (pp. -.'ii-l') ami 10711 (pp. t<'.>-i)l). Our text is lliat 
of IMK a> bi'fi)n'; but see Notes and llluslraiioiis at elo.-e of the 
poem. G. 


WTiy then should it o're be seen 

That liis shoulil fa(h', wliilc tliine is groon 1 20 

And wilt thou (0, cruell boast !) 

Put poore Nature to such cost ? 

O, twill undoe our common motlior, 

To be at charge of such another. 

"What? thinke me to no other end 25 

Gracious heavens do use to send 

Earth her best perfection, 

But to vanish, and be gone I 

Therefore onely given to day 

To-morrow to be snatch't away 1 30 

I've seen indeed the hopefull bud 

Of a ruddy rose that stood 

Blushing, to behold the ray 

Of the new-saluted Day : 

(His tender toppe not fully spread) 35 

The sweet dash of a shower new shead, 

Invited hun, no more to hide 

Within himselfe the purple pride 

Of his forward flower ; when lo, 

Wliile he sweetly 'gan to show 

His swelling gloryes, Auster spide him, 40 

Cruell Auster thither hy'd him, 

And with the rush of one rude blast, 

Sham'd not, spitefully to wast 

All his leaves, so fresh, so sweet, 

And lay them tremlding at his feet. 45 


I've seen the Morning's lovely ray 

Hover o're the new-borne Day, 

With rosie wings so richly bright, 

As if she scom'd to thinke of Night ; 

AVhen a rugged storme, whose scowle 50 

]\Iade heaven's radiant face looke foule 

Call'd for an untimely night, 

To blot the newly-blossom'd light. 

But were the rose's blush so rare. 

Were the ]\Iorning's smile so faire, 55 

As is he, nor cloud, nor wind, 

But would be courteous, would be kind. 
Spare him Death, ah ! spare him then, 

Spare the sweetest among men : 

And let not Pitty, with her teares 60 

Keepe such distance from thine eares. 

But O, thou wilt not, can'st not spare, 

Haste hath never time to heare. 

Therefore if he needs go. 

And the Fates will have it so ; 65 

Softly may he be possest 

Of his monumentall rest. 

Safe, thou darke home of the dead. 

Safe, hide his loved head : 

Keepe him close, close in thine armes, 70 

Seal'd vpp with a thousand chanues. 

For Pittie's sake, 0, hide him quite 
From his mother Nature's sight ; 

ANOTHER. 22!) 

Lest for griefe his lossc may uiovo 

AIL lier births al)ortivc> proue. 7 5 


See our Essay for notice of ' Mr. Herrys.' In the Sanchoft 
MS. the heailiu|r is 'An Elcgic ou Mr. Hen-is. R. Cit.' It oftVrs 
those variations: lines 1 anil 2, ' doest:' line 18, ' his' for ' he;' 
adopted : line 20, ' pven' for ' favo ;' adopted : line 3(), ' new' for 
'now;' adopted from Ifitrt : line ;")(), the MS. reads ' rufiRcd' for 
'rnddy;' adopted: line 58, 'ah' for ' O ;' adopted: line 00, 
'And let :' lines 70-71 added from the .MS., where iu the marf^an 
is written ' not printed.' G. 


. If ever Pitty were acquainted i 

With sterne Death ; if e're he fainteil, 
Or forgot the cmell vigour 
Of an adamantine rigour ; 

Here, 0, lierc we should have knowue it, 5 

Here, or no where, hee'd have sliowne it. 
For hee, wliose pretious memory 
Bathes in teares of every eye ; 
Hee, to whom our Sorrow brings 
All the streames of all her springs ; i o 

Was so rich iu grace, and nature, 
In all the gifts tliat blcsse a creature ; 

1 Appeared orif;iiially in ' Steps' of lOlG (pp. 30-7): was repriiiU'd 
ill 1048 'Deli{?ht.s' (pp. 23-4) ami 1670 (pp. !U-3). Our text is lluii 
of 1G4S; but see Notes and IMustralions at close of the poem. G 

vol,. 1. GG 


The fresh hopes of his lovely youth 

Flourish't in so faire a growth ; 

So sweet the temple was, that shrinM i 5 

The sacred sweetnesse of his mind ; 

That could the Fates know to relent, 

Could they know what mercy meant, 

Or had ever learnt to beare 

The soft tincture of a teare ; 20 

Teares would now have flow'd so deepe, , 

As might have taught Griefe how to weepe. 

Now all their steely operation 

Would quite have lost the cruell fashion. 

Sicknesse would have gladly been 25 

Sick himselfe to have sav'd him ; 

And his feaver wish'd to prove, 

Burning onely in his love. 

Him when Wrath it selfe had seen, 

Wrath it selfe had lost his spleen. 30 

Grim Destruction here amaz'd. 

In stead of striking, would have gaz'd. 

Even the iron-pointed pen, 

That notes the tragick doomes of men, 

Wet with teares, 'still'd from the eyes 35 

Of the flinty Destinies, 

Would have learn't a softer style, 

And have been asham'd to spoyle 

His live's sweet story, by the hast 

Of a cruell stop, ill plac't. 40 

ANOTHER. ->.i 

In the darke volume of our fate, 

Whence each lease of life hath date, 

Where in sad particulars 

The totall summe of man appeares, 

And the short clause of mortall breath, 45 

Bound in the period of Death : 

In all the booke if any where 

Such a tearmc as this, ' Spare here,' 

Could been found, 'twould have been read, 

Writ Vl\ white letters o're his head : 50 

Or close unto his name annext. 

The faire glosse of a fairer text. 

In hriefe, if any one were free 

Hee Avas that one, and onely hee. 

But he, alas ! even hee is dead, 55 

iVnd our hope's faire harvest spread 

In the dust. Pitty, now spend 

All the teares that Griefe can lend. 

Sad Mortality may hide 

In his ashes all her pride ; 60 

With this inscription o're his head, 

' ^Ul hope of never dying here is dead.' 


The Saxckoft ms. furnishes these variations : line 1, ' was:' 
line 26, ' t' have :' line 34, ' quotes' for ' notes :' 1. 42, ' lease' for 
' leafe ;' adopted : line 49 omits rightly the iirst ' have' and spells 
' bin ;' the former adopted : line 50, ' wi'ote :' line G2, ' is' for ' lyes ;' 
adopted : lino 23, ' steely' = hard as steel, or, as we say, iron- 
hearted. The Sanceoft ms. writes the two poems as one. G. 


Passenger, who e're thou art . i 

Stay a while, and let thy heart 

Take acquaintance of this stone, 

Before thou passest further on. 

This stone will tell thee, that beneath, 5 

Is entomb'd the crime of Death ; 

The ripe endowments of whose mind 

Left his yeares so much behind. 

That numbring of his vertues' praise, 

Death lost the reckoning of his dayes ; i o 

And believing what they told, 

Imagin'd him exceeding old. 

In him Perfection did set forth 

The strength of her united worth. 

Him his wisdome's pregnant growth 1 5 

Made so reverend, even in youth, 

That in the center of his brest 

(Sweet as is the phccnix' nest) 

i Appeared orii^nally in 'Steps' of 1G4G (pp. 38-9): was re- 
printed ill lG-18 ' Delights' {pp. 24-6) and 1670 (i»3-4). Our text is 
that of 1648 : but all agree. The Saxcuokt jis. is headed ' Epita- 
phium in eundem R. Cr.' Line 31, Turnbull misprints 'breast' for 
'breath.' G. 


Every reconciled Grace 

Had llieir gencrall meeting-place. . 20 

In him Goodnesse joy'd to see 

Learning learne Humility. 

The splendor of his birth and hlood 

Was but the glosse of his ownc good. 

The flourish of his sober youth 25 

Was the pride of naked truth. 

In composure of his face, 

Liv'd a faire, but manly grace. 

His mouth was Ehetorick's best mold, 

His tongue the touchstone of her gold. _^o 

What word so e're his breatli kept warme, 

Was no word now but a charnie : 

For aU persuasive Graces thence 

Suck't their sweetest influence. 

His vertue that within had root, 35 

Could not chuse but shine without. 

And th' heart-bred lustre of his worth, 

At each corner peeping forth. 

Pointed him out in all his wayes, 

Circled round in his owne rayes : 40 

That to his sweetnesse, all men's eyes 

Were vow'd Love's flaming sacrifice. 

Him while fresh and fragrant Time 
Cherisht in his golden prime ; 
E're Hebe's hand had overlaid 45 

His smooth cheekcs with a downy shade ; 


The rush of Death's unruly wave, 
Swept him off into his grave. 

Enough, now (if thou canst) passe on, 
For now (alas !) not in this stone 50 

(Passenger who e're thou art) 
Ts he entomb'd, but in thy heart. 



To these, whom Death again did wed, 1 

This grave's their second marriage-bed ; 

For though the hand of Fate could force 

'Twixt sovl and body, a diuorce. 

It could not sunder man and wife, 5 

'Cause they both lined but one life. 

Peace, good Reader, Doe not weep. 

Peace, the loners are asleep. 

They, sweet turtles, folded ly 

In the last knott that Loue could ty. 1 o 

And though they ly as they were dead, 

Theii- pillow stone, their sheetes of lead ; 

1 Appeared in ' Steps' of 16 16 (pp. 39-40), where it is 
hcided ' An Epitaph vpon Husbaiid and Wife, which died and were 

biirifd to.ircthcr.' U. 

AN EPlTAril VroN A VOVNG MAUUIKI) COVl'1,1;. 231 

(Pillow hard, and shcctcs not warm) 

Loue made the bed ; thcy'l take no harm ; 

Let them sleep : let them sleep on, 1 5 

Till this stormy niglit be gone, 

And the ;eternall morrow dawn ; 

Then the curtaines will be drawn 

And tliey wake into a light, 

Whose Day shall neuer sleepe in Night. 20 


In the Sancuoft ms. the heading is ' Epitaphium Conjugniu 
vnil mortuor. et supultor. R. Cii.' It was repiiutcd in 1048 
' Delights' (p. 20), where it is entitled as xupra, and 1070 (p. 95). 
Our text is that of 1018, which yields the live lines (11-14), and 
which Ellis in his ' Specimens' (iii. 208, 1845) introduced from 
a MS. copj', but as doubtful from not having appeared in any of 
the editions ; a mistake on his part, as the lines appear in 1048 
and 1052. His note is, nevertheless, ' The Unes included in 
brackets are in no 2>i'iittc'd edition : they were found in a MS. 
copy, and are perhaps not Crashaw's.' As usual, Turnbull 
overlooked them. I add a few slight various readings from 

Line 2, ' the.' 

,, 5, ' sever.' 

,, 6, ' Because they both liv'd but one life.' 

,, 10, I accept ' that' in 1040 and Sancroft ms. as it is 
confinned by Harleian ms. 0917- 18, as before. 
Lmc 17, I adopt 'And' for ' Till' from 1048. 

,, 19, 'waken with that Light,' and so Sancroft ms. : 
1048 reads 'And they wake into that Light :' Harleian ms. as 
before, 'And thej' waken with.' 

Line 20, ' sleep' for 'dy,' which I adopt as agreeing with the 
' wake,' and as being confirmed by Harleian ms. as before. G. 


Dear reliques of a dislodg'd sovl, whose lack i 

Makes many a inouruiHg paper put on black ! 

O stay a while, ore thou draw in thy head 

And wind thy self vp close in thy cold hed. 

Stay but a little while, vntill I call 5 

A summon's worthy of thy funcrall. 

Come then, Youth, lieavty, Blood ! all ye soft powres, 

Whose sylkeu flatteryes swell a few fond howres 

Into a false teternity. Come man ; 

Hyperbolized nothing ! know thy span ; i o 

Take thine own measiu'e here, down, down, and bow 

Before thy seK in thine idiea ; thou 

Huge emptynes ! contract thy bidke ; and shrinke 

All thy wild circle to a point. sink 

Lower and lower yet ; till thy leaue size 1 5 

Call Heaun to look on thee with narrow eyes. 

1 Appeared origiiially in ' Slops' of 1G4G (pp. 40-1), where it is 
headed ' Vpon Mr. Staninough's Death:' was reprinted in the ' Dc- 
lii^hts' of 1G48 (p. 27), with the simple mseription, 'At the Fiuierall 
of a younu; Geutlcniaii,' and in lt;52 (pp. "21-.')), as ' Death's Lectvre 
and the F\aieral of a yovnf? Gentleman,' and in IfiTO (I/is), viz. p. PG 
and pp. 206-7. Our text is that of 1G.52. as before; but see Notes 
at close of the poem. G. 


Lesser and lesser yet ; till thou begin 

To show a face, fitt to confesse thy kin, 

Thy neighbourhood to Xothiiig I 

Proud lookes, and lofty eyliddes, here putt on 20 

Your selues in your vnfaign'd reflexion ; 

Here, gallant ladyes ! this vnpartiall glasse 

(Through all your painting) sliowes you your true face. 

These death-seal'd lippes are they dare giue the ly- 

To the lewd boasts of poor jNIortality ; 25 

These ciirtam'd windows, this retired eye 

Outstares the liddes of larg-look't Tyranny. 

This posture is the brauc one, this that lyes 

Thus low, stands vp (lue thinkes) thus and defies 

The World. All-daring dust and ashes ! only you 30 

Of all interpreters read Nature true. 


These various readings are wortliy of record : 

Line 7 in our text (1652) is misprinted as two lines, the tirst 

ending with ' hlood,' a repeated bhinder of the Paris printer. 

It reads also ' the" for ' ye' of 1G46. I adopt the latter. I have 

also cancelled ' and' before ' blood' as a misprint. 

Line 8 in 1(552 is misprinted ' svlkeu' for ' sylken.' 

,, 12, ib. ' thy self,' and so in 1(J48 and 1670 : ' buike' from 

164G is preferable, and so adopted. 

Line 15, 1646 has ' small' for ' lean,' which is inferior. 

,, 16, our text (1652J misspells ' norrow.' 

,, 19, in 1646 the readings here are, 

' Thy neighbourhooc) to nothing- ! liere put on 
Thy'selfe in this unfeigu'd retlection.' 

1648 and our test as given. ' Nothing' is intended to rhyme 
with ' kin' and ' begin,' and so to form a triplet. 

Line 23, our text (1652), 1648 and 1670 read ' Though ye 


be painted:' 1646 reads ' Through all your paiiitiiif?,' which is 
much more powerful, and therefore adopted by us. It reminds 
us (from line 22, ' gallant ladyes'l of Hamlet's apostrophe to 
the skull of poor Yorick. 

Line 25, 1646 reads poorly, 

' To the prouil liopos of poor Mortality.' 
,, 26, in 1646 reads curiously, 'this selfe-prison'd eye.' G. 


A Brooke, whose streame so great, so <(00(1, i 

Was lov'd, was honour'd, as a flood : 

"Whose bankcs the Muses dwelt upon, 

More than their owne Helicon ; 

Here at length, hath gladly found 5 

A quiet passage under ground ; 

Meaue while his loved bankes, now dry 

Tlie Muses with their teares supply. 

' Appeared originally in ' Steps' of 1646 (p. 40) : was reprinted 
in ItUS 'Delights' (p. 28) and 1670 (p. 95). Our text is that of 
KIIS; but all agree. In the Sascroft Ms.the heading is "In (»bitiini 
D"* Hroiike. R. C'k ' It re;ids 'banck' for 'bankes' in line 7. See 
our Essav for notice of Dr. Brooke. G. 


"Whkre art thou Sol, while thus the blind-fold Day i 
Staggers out of the East, loses her way 
Stumbling on Night ? liouze thee illustrious youth, 
And let no dull mists choake thy Eight's fairo growth. 
Point hefc thy beames : O glance on yonder flocks, 5 
And make their fleeces golden as tliy locks. 
Vnfold thy fairs front, and there shall appeare 
Full glory, flaming in her owne free splieare. 
Gladncssc shall cloatli the Earth, we will instile 
The face of things, an universall smile. 1 o 

Say to the sidlen Morne, thou com'st to court her ; 
And wilt command proud Zephirus to sport her 
With wanton gales : his balmy breath shall licke 
The tender ilrops which tremble on her cheeke ; 
AVhich rarified, and in a gentle raine 1 5 

Un those delicious bankes distill'd againe, 
Shall rise in a sweet Harvest, which discloses 
Two ever-blushing bed[s] of new-borne roses. 

' Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1G46 (pp. -15 (i): was reprinted 
in •Delights' of 1G48 (pp. 28-0) and UuO (pp. lol-i'). Our text is 
that of 1G48, as before; but see Notes and lllustraliiin> at close of the 
poem. G. 


Hee'l fan her bright locks, teaching tlieiu to flow, 
And friske in cuiTd ni.X'anders : hee will throw 20 

A fragrant breath suckt from the spicy nest 
0' th' pretious phoenix, warme upon her breast. 
Hee with a dainty and soft hand will trim 
And brush her azure mantle, which shall swim 
In silken volumes; wheresoe're shee'l tread, 25 

Bright clouds like golden fleeces shall be spread. 

Rise then (faire blew-ey'd maid!) rise and disco vi-r 
Thy silver brow, and meet thy golden lover. 
See how hee runs, with what a hasty flight, 
Into thy bosome, bath'd with liquid light. 30 

Fly, fly prophane fogs, farre hence fly awaj', 
Taint not the pure streames of the springing Day, 
With your dull influence ; it is for you 
To sit and scoule upon J^ight's heavy brow. 
Not on the fresh cheekes of the virgin ^lorne, 35 

AVhere nought but smiles, and rudd}' joyes are worne. 
Fly then, and doe not thinke with her to stay ; 
Let it suffice, shee'l weare no maske to day. 


Til the Sanckoft MS. this is headed 'An luvitatiou to faii'e 
weather. In itiuere adurgoretm- matutiuum ca?lum tali carmine 
invitahatur sereuitas. K. Cit.' In line 12 the ms. reads ' smooth' 
for ' proud' (Tuknbull here, after 1670, as usnal misreads ' de- 
mand' for ' command'): line IS coiTects the misreading of all 
the editions, which is ' To every hlushing ....:' line 23 reads 
' soft and dainty :' line 36, ' is" for ■ are :' other orthogi-aphic dif- 
ferences onlv. 


The opcuinfj lines of this poem sooin to he adapted from ro- 
meiuhnmco of the Friiu-"s iu Romeo and Juliet : 
' The grey-eyed Mora smiles on the frowning Night 

And Booked Darkness like a dninkard reds 

From forth Uny's path and Titan's buniiiig wliecls.' (ii. :i.) 

Line 4, in Hauleian jis. 0917-18 reads, as I have adopliil, 
' thy' for ' the.' 

Line 5, ib. ' on yond fau-e.' 
„ 7, ib. ' Unfold thy front and then . . . .' 
„ 9, iustile is -instill, used in Latinate sense of drop 
into or upon : Harleian ms., as before, is ' cnstUe.' 
Line 14, Harleiam ms., as before, ' thy' for ' her.' 
,, 1(), ib. 'these.' 
„ 17-18, ib. 

' and disclose 
the new-bom rose.' 

Sec our Essav for critical remarks. G. 



What succour can I liojie my ]\Iuso shall send i 

Whose drowsiuesse hath wrong'd the INIuses' fricml >. 
What hope, Aurora, to propitiate thee, 
Vulesse the Muse sing my a2:)ologie 1 

in that morning of my shame ! when I 5 

Lay folded up in Sleepe's captivity, 
How at the sight did'st thou draw back thine eyes, 
Into thy modest veyle ? how didst thou rise 

1 Appeared oripnally in 'Steps' of 1C4G (pp. 47-8): was reprinted 
in 1648 'Delights' (pp. 30-1) and 1G70 (pp. 10l'-4). Onr text is 
that of 1648, as before; but see Notes and Illustrations at close of 
the poem. G. 


Twice dy'd in thine owne blushes ! and did'st nin 
To draw the curtaines, and awake tlie sun I 
Who, rowzing his illustrious tresses, carae, 
And seeing the loath'd object, hid for shame 
His head in thy faire bosome, and still hides 
Mee from his patronage ; I pray, he chides : 
And pointing to dull INIorpheus, bids me take 
]My owne Apollo, try if I can make 
His Lethe be my Helicon : and see 
If Morpheus have a Muse to wait on mee. 
Hence 'tis, my humble fancie finds no wings, 
No nimble rapture starts to Heaven, and brings 
Enthusiasticke flames, such as can give 
Marrow to my plumpe genius, make it live 
I) rest in the glorious madnesse of a Muse, 
Whose feet can walke the milky way, and chuse 
Her starry throne ; whose holy heats can warme 
The grave, and hold up an exalted anue 
To lift me from my lazy vrne, to climbe 
Vpon the stooped shoulders of eld Time, 
And trace Eternity — But all is dead, 
All these delicious hopes are buried 
In the deepe wrinckles of his angry brow, 
Where Mercy cannot find them : but thou 
Bright lady of the Morne ! pitty doth lye 
So warme in thy soft brest, it cannot dye. 
Have mercy then, and when he next shall rise 
() meet the angry God, invade his eyes. 


And stroako his radiant chefkos ; one timely kisse 
Will kill his anger, and revive my blissc. 
So to the treasure of thy pearly deaw, 
TJirice w'ill I pay three teares, to show how true 40 
My griefe is ; so my wakefull lay shall knock(; 
At th' orientall gates, and duly niocke 
The early lai'kes' shrill orizons, to be 
An anthem at the Daye's nativitic. 
And the same rosie-finger'd hand of thine, 45 

That shuts Night's dying eyes, shall open mine. 
But thou, faint God of Sleepe, forget that I 
Was ever known to be thy votary. 
No more my pillow shall thine altar be, 
Nor will I offer any more to thee 50 

^ly selfe a melting sacrifice ; I'me borne 
Againe a fresh child of the buxome ^lorne, 
Heire of the sun's first beames. Wliy threat'st thoii so I 
Why dost thou shake thy leaden scejjter 1 goe. 
Bestow thy poppy upon Avakefull Woe, 155 

Sicknesse, and Sorrow, whose pale lidds ne'rc know 
Thy downie finger ; dwell upon their eyes. 
Shut in their teares : shut out their miseries. 


In 1646, line 1, for ' shall' reads ' will :' ib. in Harleian jis. 
as before, ' my' for ' the Muse ;' which I adopt here, but not in 
next line: line 9, ib. 'thy:' line 11, Ulustrious is — lustrous, 
ratliant : H.\rleiax ms. as before, line 19, ' this my bumble :' 
line 20, 164G misprints 'raptures:' line 27, 1070 has 'and 

240 love's horoscope. 

climb:' line 28, 1646 has ' stooped' for ' stooping' of 1648 ; infin- 
itely snpeiioi-, and tli tic fore adopted : 1670 misprints ' stopped :' 
the Sancroft ms. has ' stooping :' line 45, Haki.f.ian ms. as 
before, ' thy altar.' Further : in the Sancroft ms. this poem 
is headed 'AdAuroram Somnolentiic expiatio. R. Cr.,' and it 
supplies these various readings : line 1, ' wUl :' line 7, ' call 
back:' line 16, 'my' for 'mine;' line 20-21, 'wiuge' and 
'biinge:' line 40, 'treasures:' other orthographic diflerences 
only. See Essay, as in last poem. G. 


IvOVE, brave Vertue's younger brother, i 

Erst hath made my heart a mother ; 
Shee consults the conscious spheares 
To calculate her young son's yeares. 
Shee askes, if sad, or saving powers, 5 

Gave omen to his infant howers ; 
Shee askes each starre that then stood by, 
If poore Love shall live or dy. 

Ah, my heart, is tliat the A^ay 1 

Are these the beames that rule thy day ? 10 

Thou knoM^'st a face in vrhose each looke, 

Beauty layes ope Love's fortune-booke ; 

On whose faire revolutions wait 

The obsequious motions of man's fate : 

1 Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1640 (pp. 49-50): wa.s re- 
printed in • Delights' of "lG48 (pp. S>-3) and 167(1 (pp. 104-6). Our 
text is that of 1648, as before: but see Notes and Illustrations at 
close of the poem. (i. 


Ah, my heart, her eyes, and shee, 1 5 

Have taught thee new astrologie. 

How e're Love's native houres were set, 

"What ever starry synod met, 

'Tis in tlie mercy of her eye, 

If poore Love shall live or dye. 20 

If those sharpe rayes putting on 

Points of death, bid Love be gon : 

(Though the Heavens in counsell sate 

To crowne an uncontroidod fate, 

Though their best aspects twin'd upon 25 

The kindest constellation, 

Cast amorous glances on his birth, 

And whisper'd the confederate Earth 

To pave his pathes with all the good, 

That warmes the bed of youth and blood) 30 

Love hath no plea against her eye : 

Beauty frownes, and Tiove must dye. 

But if her milder influence move, 

And gild the liopes of humble Love : 

(Though Heaven's inauspicious eye 35 

Lay blacke on Love's nativitic ; 

Though every diamond in love's crnwnc 

Fixt his forehead to a frowne :) 

Her eye, a strong appealc can giue, 

Beauty smiles, and Love shall live. 40 

vol.. I. 11 

242 love's horoscope. 

0, if Love shall live, O, where 
But in her eye, or in her eare, 
In her brest, or in her breath, 
Shall I hide poore Love from Death ? 
For in the life ought else can give, 45 

Love shall rlje, although he live. 

Or, if Love shall dye, 0, where 
But in her eye, or in her eare, 
In her breath, or in her breast, 
Shall I build his funerall nest? 50 

AVhile Love shall thus entombed Ij'e, 
Love shall live, although he dye. 


In line IG the heavens are the planets. To ' crown" his fate 
is to invest it with regal power, and so place it beyond control. 
It is doubtful whether ' uueontrouled' expresses that state or 
result of crowning, or whether the clause is hyperbolical, and 
means to put fui-ther beyond control an already unconti-oUed 
fate. ' Twin'd" seems a strange word to use, but refers, I pre- 
sume, to the apparently uTegalar and winding-like motions of 
the planets through the constellations until they result in the 
favourable aspects mentioned. According to astrology, the 
beneficence or maleficence of the planetary aspects varies with 
the nature of the constellation iu which they occur. Hknuy 
Vaugh.'^n, Silurist, uses ' wind" very much as Crashaw uses 
' twin'd :" see s. v. in our edition. 

In line li we have accepted the reading ' man's" for ' Loves' 
from the Sancboft ms. 



To thy lover 

Deere, discover 
That sweet blusli of tliine that shamctli 
— When those roses 

It discloses — 
All the flowers that Natiu'e nameth. 

In free ayre, 

Flow thy haire ; 
That no more Summer's best dresses, 

Bee beholden 

For their golden 
Locks, to Phoebus' flaming tresses. 

O deliver 

Love his quiver ; 
From thy eyes he shoots his arrowes : 

Where Apollo 

Cannot follow : 
Featherd with his mother's sparrowes. 

'•Appeared originally in the 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. l'23-4), along 
with the other two (pp. 125-6) : reprinted in 1648 (pp. .iS-T) and 1670 
(pp. 117-19). Our text is that of 1648 : but all agree. G. 

244 A SONG. 

O envy not 
— That we dye nut — 
Those deore lips whose doore eucloscs 

All the Graces 

In their places, 
Brother pearles, and sister roses. 

From these treasures 

Of ripe pleasures 
One bright smile to cleere the weather. 

Earth and Heaven 

Thus made even, 
Both will be good friends together. 

The aire does wooe thee. 

Winds cling to thee ; 
Might a word once fly from out thee, 

Storme and thunder 

"Would sit under, 
And keepe silence round about thee. 

But if Nature's 

Common creatures. 
So deare glories dare not borrow : 

Yet thy beauty 

Owes a duty, 
To my loving, lingring sorrow. 

When to end mee 

Deatli shall send mee 


All his terrors to atfriglit luee : 

Thinu eyes' Graces 

Gild their faces, 
,Vud those terrors shall delight mee. 

When my dying 

Life is flying, 
Those sweet aires that often slew uiee 

Shall revive mee, 

Or reprive mee, 
And to many deaths renew mee. 


Love now no fire hath left him, i 

We two betwixt us have divided it. 

Your eyes the light hath reft him, 

The heat commanding in my heart doth sit.^ 

that poore Love be not for ever spoyled, 5 

Let my heat to your light be reconciled. 

So shall these flames, whose worth 

Now all obscurkl lyes : 
— Drest in those beames — start forth 

And dance before your eyes. 10 

1 TuK-VBULL tclaringly misprints 'The heart coiinnaniling in niy 
heart,' and in line 15, 'O love;' the latter after 1G70 a.s usual, the 
former his own. G. 


Or else partake my flames 
(I care not whither) 

And so in mutuall names 

Of Love, burne both together. 


Would any one the true cause find 

How Love came nak't, a boy, and blind I 

'Tis this : listning one day too long, 

So th' Syrens in my mistris' song. 

The extasie of a delight 

So much o're-mastring all his might, 

To that one sense, made all else tlirall, 

And so he lost his clothes, eyes, heart and all. 


Let hoary Time's vast bowels be the grave i 

To what his bowels' birth and being gave ; 

' Appeared originally, without signature, in the work celebrated, 
which is a great folio. It was preceded by another, which, havuig 
been inserted in the ' Steps' of 1646 and the other editions (1652 
excepted), has been continued to be reprinted as Crashaw's. It 
really belonged to Dr. Edwaud Rainbow, Bishop of Carlisle, for 
whom, so late as 1688, it was first claimed by his biographer. Banks. 
This was pointed out in Notes and Queries by Rev. J. E. B. Mayor, 

vrox MR. isaackson's chronologii;. 'H7 

Let Nature die, (Pluonix-like) from death 

Revived Nature takes a second breatli ; 

If on Time's right hand, sit faire Historic, 5 

If from the seed of emptie Kuine, she 

Can raise so faire an harvest ; let her be 

Ne're so farre distant, yet Chronologic 

(Sharp-sighted as the eagle's eye, that can 

Out-stare the broad-beam'd daye's meridian ) i o 

Will have a perspicill to find her out. 

And, through the niglit of error and dark doubt, 

Discerne the dawne of Truth's eternall ray, 

As when the rosie IMorne biidds into Day. 

Now that Time's empire might be amply fill'd, 1 5 
Babel's bold artists strive (below) to build 
Ruine a temple ; on whose fruitful! fall 
History reares her pyi-amids, more tall 
Than were tli' Aegyptian (by the life these give, 
Th' Egyptian pyramids themselves must live): 20 

M.A. of St. John's College, Cambridge {2d s. vol. iv. p. 286). One is 
thankfnl to have the claim confirmed by the non-presence of the 
poem in the Sancroft ms., where only the above shorter one appears 
as by CiiAsiiAW. Lines 5-8 of Rainbow's poem it was simply im- 
possible for our singer to have written. I add the otlier at close of 
Ckasiiaw's, as some may be curious to read it : but as the details 
of the grotescpie 'Fnmtispiecc' are celebrated by Rainbow, not Cra- 
sh aw, 1 have departed from my intention of rcproducnig it in our 
illustrated quarto edition, the more readily in that I have much 
increased otherwise therein the reproductions announced. Rainbow 
contributed to the University Collections along with Ckashaw, 
More, Bkaumont, E. King, &c. &c. See our Essay on Life and 
Poetrv. G 

248 vpox MK. isaackson's chroxologie. 

On these slie lifts the world ; and on their base 
Showes the two termes, and limits of Time's race : 
That, the creation is ; the judgement, this ; 
That, the World's morning ; this, her midnight i>;. 


As explained in preceding Note, I add here the poem so long 
misassigned to Ckashaw. 



If with distinctive eye, and mind, you look«; i 

Vpon the Front, you see more than one Booke. 

Creation is God's Booke, wherein He -ivrit 

Each creature, as a letter filling it. 

History is Creation's Booke ; which showes 5 

To what effects the Series of it goes. 

Chronologie's the Booke of Historic, and beares 

The just account of Dayes, ^loneths, and Yeare.^;. 

But Resurrection, in a later Pres.'se, 

And New Edition, is the summe of these. 10 

The Language of these Bookes had all been one. 

Had not th' aspiring Tower of Babylon 

Confus'd the tongues, and in a distance hurl'd 

As f;irre the speech, as men, 0' th' new fiU'd world. 


Set tlien your eyes in motliod, and Ix'hoM 15 
Time's emblemc, Saturne ; who, when store of gold 
Coyn'd the first age, devour'd that birth, he fear'd ; 
Till History, Time's eldest child appear'd ; 
And Phcvnix-like, in spight of Saturne's rage, 
Forc'd from her ashes, heyres in every age. 20 

From th' Eising Sunne, obtaining by just suit, 
A Spring's ingender, and an Autuinne's fruit. 
Who in those Volumes at her motion pcnd, 
Vnto Creation's Alpha doth extend. 
Againe ascend, and view Chronology, 25 

By optick skill, pulling f;irrc History 
Xeerer ; whose Hand the piercing Eagle's eye 
Strengthens, to bring remotest objects nigh, 
Vnder whose feet, you see the Setting Sunne, 
From the darke Gnomon, o're her volumes runne, 30 
Drown'd in eternall night, never to rise. 
Till Eesurrection show it to the eyes 
Of Earth- worne men; and her shrill trumpet's sound 
Affright the Bones of mortals from the ground. 
The Columnes both are crown'd with either Sphere, 
To show Chronology and History beare, 36 

Xo other Culmen than the double Art, 
Astronomy, Geography, impart. 




The modest front of this small floore, i 

Beleeve me, Reader, can say more 

Than many a hraver marble can ; 

Here hjes a truly lionest man. 

One whose conscience was a thing, 5 

That troubled neither Church nor King. 

One of those few that in this towne, 

Honour all Preachers, heare their owne. 

Sermons he heard, yet not so many 

As left no time to practise any. i o 

He heard them reverendly, and then 

His practice preach'd them o're agen. 

His Parlour-Sermons rather were 

Those to the eye, then to the eare. 

His prayers took their price and strength, 1 5 

Not from the lowdnesse, nor the length. 

He was a Protestant at home, 

Not onely in despight of Eome. 

He lov'd his Father ; yet his zeale 

Tore not off his Mother's veile. 20 

' Appeared originally in ' Delights' of 1646 (pp. 130-1) : was re- 
printed in 1648 (pp. 40-1) and 1670 (pp. 122-,S). Our text is that 
of 1648. as before; but all agree. G. 


To th' Cliuvch he did allow her dresse, 

True Beauty, to true Holinesse. 

Peace, which he lov'd in life, did lend 

Her hand to bring him to his end. 

"When Age and Death call'd for the score, 25 

No surfets were to reckon for. 

Death tore not — therefore — but sans strife 

Gently untwin'd his thread of life. 

What remaines then, but that thou 

Write these lines, Eeader, in thy brow, 30 

And by his faire example's light, 

Bume in thy imitation bright. 

So while these lines can but bequeath 

A life perhaps unto his death ; 

His better Epitaph shall bee, 35 

His life still kept alive in thee. 


Come and let us live my deare, i , 

Let us love and never feare, 
What the sowrest fathers say : 
Brightest Sol that dyes to day 

' Appeared originalh' in ' Delights' of 1646 (pp. 132-3), and was 
reprinted in 16-48 (p. 42) ; but not iii 1670. Our text is that of 1648 : 
but all agree. The original is found in Carni. v. = 2. The Sancroft 
M.S. reads line 4 'Blithest:' line 9 'numerous:' line 12 'A:' line 17 
'our.' G. 

252 WISHES. 

I.ivea againc as blitli to morrow ; 5 

But if we darkc sous of sorrow 

Set : then how long a Night 

yhuts the eyes of our sliort light 1 

Then let amorous kisses dwell 

Uu our lips, begin and tell lo 

A thousand, and a hundred score, 

An hundred and a thousand more. 

Till another thousand smother 

That, and that wipe of [f ] another. 

Thus at last when we have numbred 1 5 

Many a thousand, many a hundred, 

WeeT confound the reckoning quite. 

And lose our selves in Avild delight : 

Wliile our joyes so multiply, 

As shaU mocke the envious eye. 20 


TO HIS (supposed) mistresse.' 

1. Who ere she be, 1 

That not impossible she 
That shall command my heart and me ; 

' Appeared originally in ' Delights' of 1G4G (pp. 134-8) : was 
reprinted in 1(518 (pp. 43".7) and 1070 (pp. 124-8). Our text is that 
of 1648, as before; but see Notes and Illustrations at close of the 
poem. G. 

WISHES. 253 

2. AVlieiv ere she lye, 

Lock't uj) from luortall uyo, 5 

In shady leaves of Destiny ; 

:>. Till that ripe birth 

Of studied Fate stand forth, 

And teach her faire steps tread qui- Earth ; 

4. Till that divine 10 
Ida?a, take a shrine 

Of chrystall flesh, through wliich to shine ; 

5. !Meet you her, my wishes, 
Bespeake her to my blisses, 

And be ye call'd, my absent kisses. 1 5 

G. I Avish her, beauty 

That owes not all its duty 

To gaudy tire or glistriug shoo-ty. 

7. Something more than 

Taffata or tissew can, 20 

Or rampant feather, or rich fan. 

8. More than the spoyle 

Of shop, or silkeworme's toyle, 
Or a bought blush, or a set smile. 

9. A face that's best 

By its owne beauty drest, 

And can alone commend the rest. 


254 WISHES. 

10. A face made up, 
Out of no other sliop 

Than what Nature's white hand sets ope. 30 

11. A cheeke where Youth, 
And blood, with pen of Truth 
AVrite, what their reader sweetly ru'th. 

12. A cheeke where growes 

More than a morning rose : 35 

Which to no boxe his being owes. 

13. Lipps, where all day 

A lover's kisse may play, 

Yet carry nothing thence away. 

14. Lookes that oppresse 40 
Tlieir richest tires, but dresse 

Themselves in simple nakednesse. 

15. Eyes, that displace 

The neighbour diamond, and out-face 

That sunshine, by their own sweet grace. 45 

16. Tresses, that weare 
lewells, but to declare 

How much themselves more pretious are. 

17. Whose native ray, 

Can tame the wanton day 50 

Of gems, that in their bright shades play. 

WISHES. 265 

18. luicli rubj- there, 

Or i)earle that ilares appcare, 

Be its own blush, be its own teare. 

19. A well tam'd heart, 55 
For whose more noble smart, 

Love may be long chusing a dart. 

20. Ej'es, that bestow 

Full quivers on Love's bow ; 

Yet pay lesse arrowes than they owe. 60 

21. Smiles, that can warme 

The blood, yet teach a charme, 
That Chastity shall take no liarme. 

22. Blushes, that bin 

The burnish of no sin, 65 

Nor flames of ought too hot witliin. 

23. loyes, that confesse, 
Vertue their mistresse, 

And have no other head to dresse. 

24. Feares, fond, and flight, 70 
As the coy bride's, when Night 

First does the longing lover right. 

25. Teares, quickly fled. 

And vaine, as those are shed 

For a dying maydenhead. 75 

256 WISHES. 

2f). Dayes, that need borrow, 

No part of their good morrow, 
From a fore-spent night of sorrow. 

27. Dayes, that in spight 

Of darknesse, by the light 80 

Of a cleere mind are day all night. 

28. Nights, sweet as they, 
jNIade short by lovers play, 

Yet long by th' absence of the day. 

29. Life, that dares send 85 
A challenge to his end. 

And when it comes say. Welcome friend ! 

30. Sydnsean showers 

Of sweet discourse, whose powers 

Can crown old Winter's head with flowers. 90 

31. Soft silken hoiirs ; 

Open sunnes ; shady bowers ; 

'Bove all, nothing within that lowers. 

32. What ere delight 

Can make Daye's forehead bright, 95 

Or give downe to the wings of Night. 

33. In her whole frame, 
Haue Nature all the name, 
Art and ornament the shame. 

WISHES. 2f)7 

34. Hev llattery, loo 
Picture and Poosy, 

Her counsell her owiie virtue be. 

35. I wish her store 

Of worth may leave lier poors 

Of wishes; and I wish no more. 105 

3C. Xow if Time knowes 

That her, whose radiant browes 
Weave them a garland of my vowes ; 

37. Her whose just bayes, 

^[y future hopes can raise, 1 1 o 

A trophic to her present praise ; 

38. Her that dares be, 

^Miat these lines wish to see : 
I seeks no further : it is she. 

39. 'Tis she, and here 1 1 5 
Lo I uncloath and cleare, 

!My wishes cloudy character. 

40. ^lay she enjoy it, 
Whose merit dare ajiply it, 

But Modesty dares still deny it, 120 

41. Such worth as this is 
Shall fixe my flying wishes, 
And determine them to kisses. 

VOL. 1. LL 

258 wisHKs. 

42. Let licr lull glory, 

My fancyes, fly before ye, 1 25 

Ee ye luy fictions ; but her story. 


The Haui.kian ms. 0917-18, as before, gives an admirable 
reading, con-ective of all the editions in st. 3, line 3. Hitherto 
it has run, 'And teach her faire steps to our Earth :' the ms. as 
given by us ' tread' for ' to :' ib. st. .5, Une 1, reads ' Mecte her 
my wishes;' perhaps preferable: st. 6, I accept 'its' for 'his" 
from 1070 edition: st. 7, ' than' = then, and is spelled 'then" 
here and elsewhere in 1646 and 1G70 : st. 8, line 3, Hakleian 
MS. reads ' Or a bowe, blush, or a set smile ;' inferior : st. 9, ib. 
reads ' commend' for ' command ;' adopted : st. 11 , ib. ' then-' for 
' the ;' adopted : st. 14, ib. spells ' tyers,' and Une 3 reads as we 
print for ' And cloath theii- simplest nakednesse,' which is 
clumsy and poor : st. 15 : Here, as in the poem, ' On the bleed- 
ing wounds of oui" crucified Lord' (st. 6), where we read ' The 
thorns that Thy blest brows encloses,' and elsewhere, we have 
an example of the Elizabethan use of ' that' as a singular (re- 
femng to and thus made a collective plural) taken as the go- 
verning nominative to the verb. So in this poem of ' Wishes' 
we have ' Eyes that bestow,' ' Jo.ys that confess,' ' Tresses that 
wear.' But it must be stated that the Harleiam ms., as be- 
fore, reads not as in 1646 and 1648 ' displaces,' ' out-fiiees' and 
' gi-aces,' but as printed by us on its authority ; certainly the 
rhythm is improved thereby : st. 18, ILue 2, ib. ' dares' for ' dare ;' 
adopted : st. 24, looking to ' tears quickly fled" of next stanza, 
I think ' flight' is correct, and not a misprint for ' slight." Ac- 
cordingly I have punctuated with a comma after fond, flight 
being ^; the shrinking-away of the bride, like the Horatian fair 
lady, a fugitive j'et wishful of her lover's kiss: st. 31, Hak- 
i,j;iAN MS. as before, 'Open sunn :' st. 42, line 3, 'be you my 
fictions, she my story.' G. 

TO THE (,)UEEi\ : 


When you are mistresoo of the song, i 

Mighty (^ueen, to thinke it long, 

Were treason 'gainst that majesty 

Yonr Vertuc wears. Your modesty 

Yet thinks it so. But ev'n that too 5 

— Infinite, since part of you — 

Xew matter for our ^fuse supplies, 

And so allowes what it denies. 

Say then dread queen, how may we doe 

To mediate 'twixt your self and you? 10 

That so our sweetly temper'd song 

Nor be too sort, nor seeme to[o] long. 

Needs must your noble prayses' strength 
That made it long excuse the length. 

I Appeared originally in 'Voce? Votiva; ab Academicis Canta- 
brigiensibus pro novissimo Carolo et Marix principe tilio emissa;. 
Cantabri^ia' : apud Rogerum Daniel, mdcxl.' This poem did not 
appear in the edition of 1G46 ; but it did in that of 1G48 (p. 48). 
Xot having been reprinted iii 1670, it was overlooked by TiRNBUi-r,. 
< >ur text is from 1648 ; but the only variation from the original in 
' Voces Votivne' is in line 7, 'to' instead of 'for.' G. 



Britain ! the mighty Ocean's hjvely bride ! i 

Now stretch thy self, fair isle, and grow : spread wide 
Tliy bosome, and make roome. Thou art opprest 
With thine own glories, and art strangely blest 
Eeyond thy self : for (lo !) the gods, the gods 5 

Come fast upon thee ; and those glorious ods 
Swell thy fuU honours to a pitch so high 
As sits above thy best capacitie. 

Are they not ods 1 and glorious ? that to thee 
Tliose mighty genii throng, which well might be 10 
Each one an Age's labour 1 that thy dayes 
Are gilded with the union of those rayes 
Whose each divided beam would be a sunne 
To glad the sphere of any Nation ? 
Sure, if for these thou mean'st to tind a seat, 1 5 

Th' hast need, O Britain, to be truly Great. 

And so thou art ; their presence makes thee so : 
They are thy greatnesse. Gods, where-e're they go, 

1 Appeared as in last piece : 1G48 (pp. 49-53), 1670 (pp. 97-100). 
Our text is that of 1(J48, as before, which corrects Tirnbili. in 
many places as well in errors of commission as of omission ; the 
latter xtending to no fewer than forty-nin:; entire lines, in addition 
to the 'Apolojjie' of fonrtecn lines. See Notes and lUustraiious at 
dose of the poem. G. 


Bring their Heav'n with them : their great footsteps 

An everlasting smile upon the face 20 

Of the glail Earth they tread on : while with thee 
Those beames that ampliate mortalitie, 
And teach it to expatiate and swell 
To majestic and fulnesse, deign to dwell, 
Thou by thy self maist sit, (blest Isle) and see 25 

How thy great mother Xature dotes on thee. 
Thee therefore from the rest apart she hurl'd, 
iVnd seem'd to make an Isle, but made a World. 

Time yet hath dropt few plumes since Hope turiiM 


And took into his arraes the princely boy, 30 

Whose birth last blest the bed of his sweet mother. 
And bad us first salute our prince, a brother. 

Tlie Prince caul Duke of York. 
Bright Charles ! thou sweet dawn of a glorious Day ! 
Centre of those thy grandsires (shall I say, 
Hemy and James % or, Mars and Phoebus rather % 3 5 
If this were Wisdome's god, that War's stern father ; 
'Tis but the same is said : Henry and James 
Are i\Iars and Phrebus under diverse names) : 
thou full mixture of those mighty souls 
Whose vast intelligences tun'd the poles 40 

Of Pfiace and War ; thou, for whose manly broM- 
Both la^vTels twine iuto one wreath, and woo 


To be thy garland : see (sweet prince), see, 

Thou, and tlie lovely hopes that smile in thee, 

Art ta'n out and transcrib'd by thy great mother : 45 

See, see thy reall shadow; see thy brother, 

Thy little self in lesse : trace in these eyne 

The beams that dance in those full stars of thine. 

From the same snowy alabaster rock 

Those hands and thine were hewn; those cherries 50 

The corall of thy lips : thou wert of all 
This well- wrought copie the fair principall. 

Lady Mary. 
lustly, great Nature, didst thou brag, and tell 
How ev'n th' hadst di'awn that faithfull jiarallel, 
And match t thy master-piece. O then go on, 55 

Make such another sweet comparison. 
Seest thou that Marie there ? teach her mother 
To shew her to her self in such another. 
Fellow this wonder too ; nor let her shine 
Alone ; light such another star, and twine 60 

Their rosie beams, that so the Morn for one 
Venus, may have a constellation. 

Lady Ellmhetli. 
These words scarce waken'd Heaven, when — 
lo ! — our vows 
Sat crown'd upon the noble infantV brows. 


Tir art paii'il, s\v(>ct princesso : in this well-writ book 65 
Read o'rc thy self; peruse each lino, each look. 
And when th' hast summ'd up all those blooniin,^ 

Close up the book, and clasp it with thy kisses. 

So have I seen (to dresse their niistresse May) 
Two silken sister-flowers consult, and lay 70 

Their bashfuU cheeks together : newly they 
Peep't from their buds, show'd like the garden's eyes 
Scarce wak't : like was the crimson of their joyes ; 
Like were the tears they wept, so like, that one 
Seem'd but the other's kind reflexion. 75 

Tlie new-borne Prince. 

And now 'twere time to say, sweet queen, no more. 
Fair source of princes, is thy pretious store 
Xot yet exhaust ? O no ! Heavens have no bound, 
But in their infinite and endlesse round 
Embrace themselves. Our measure is not tlieir's ; 80 
Nor may the pov'rtie of man's narrow prayers 
Span their immensitie. INIore princes come : 
Rebellion, stand thou by ; Mischief, make room : 
War, blood, and death — names all averse from loy — 
Ileare this, we have another bright-ey'd boy : 85 

That word's a warrant, by whose vertue I 
Have full authority to bid you dy. 

Dy, dy, foul misbegotten monsters ! dy : 
^lake haste away, or e'r the World's bright eye 


JJlusli to a cloinl of ])lou(l. < ) farru from inou 90 

Ply hence, and in your Hyperborean den 
Hide you for evermore, and murmure there 
AVhere none but Hell may heare, nor our soft aire 
Shrink at the hateful! sound. ^lean while we bear 
High as the brow of Heaven, the noble noise 95 

And name of these our just and righteous joyes, 
Where Envie shall not reach them, nor those cares 
Whose tune keeps time to ought below the spheres. 

But thou, sweet supernumerary starre, 
Shine forth ; nor fear the threats of boyst'rous 

Warre. 1 00 

The face of things has therefore frowu'd a while 
On purpose, that to thee and thy pure smile 
The World might ow an universall calm ; 
While thou, fair halcyon, on a sea of balm 
Shalt flote; where M'hile thou layst thy lovely head, T05 
The angry billows shall but make thy bed : 
Storms, when they look on thee, shall straight 

relent ; 
And tempests, when they tast thy breath, repent 
To wliispers, soft as thine own slumbers be. 
Or souls of virgins which shall sigh for thee. 1 1 o 

Shine then, sweet supernumerary starre, 
Nor feare the boysterous names of blond and warre : 
Thy birth-day is their death's nativitie ; 
They've here no other businesse but to die. 

TO THK yUKEX. 20') 

Tn till' Queen. 

Lut stay; Avliat glimpse was that? \vl13' blu-slit 

tlie Day ? 115 

Wliy ran tlie started aire trembling away 1 
"Who's this that comes circled in raycs that scorn 
Acquaintance with the sun ? what second morn 
At midday opes a presence which Heaven's eyo 
Stands oft' and points at ? Is't some deity 1 20 

Stept from lier throne of starres, dcignes to be seen I 
Is it some deity 1 or is't onr queen 1 

'Tis she, 'tis slie : her awfull beauties chase 
The Daj'^'s abashed glories, and in face 
Of noon wear their own sunshine. thou bright 1 25 
Mistresse of wonders ! Cynthia's is the Night ; 
But thou at noon dost shine, and art all day 
(N"or does thy sun deny't) our Cynthia. 

Illustrious sweetnesse ! in thy faithfull wom1)<\ 
That nest of heroes, all our hopes find room. 1 30 

Thou art the mother-phenix, and thy brest 
Chast as that virgin honour of the East, 
But much more fruitfull is ; nor does, as she, 
Deny to mighty Love, a deitie. 

Then let the Eastern world brag and be proud 135 

Of one coy phenix, while we have a brood, 
A brood of phenixes : while we have brother 
And sister-phenixes, and still the mother. 

And may we long ! Long may'st thou live t'increase 
The house and family of phenixes. 140 



Nor may the life that gives their eye-lids light 
E're prove the dismall i7iorning of tliy night : 
Ne're may a birth of thine be bought so dear 
To make his costly cradle of thy beer. 

may'st thou thus make all the year thine omti, 145 
And see such names of joy sit white upon 
The brow of every month ! and when th' hast done, 
Mayst in a son of his find every son 
Repeated, and that son still in another, 
And so in each child, often prove a toother. 1 50 

Long may'st thou, laden vnth such clusters, lean 
Vpon thy royall elm (fair vine !) and when 
The Heav'ns will stay no longer, may thy glory 
And name dwell sweet in some eternall story ! 

Pardon (bright Excellence,) an untun'd string, i 55 
That in thy eares thus keeps a murmuring. 
O speake a lowly INIuse's pardon, speake 
Her pardon, or her sentence ; onely breake 
Thy silence. Speake, and she shall take from thence 
Numbers, and sweetnesse, and an influence 160 

' Confessing thee. Or (if too long I stay,) 
speake thou, and my pipe hath nought to say : 
For see Apollo all tliis while stands mute. 
Expecting by thy voice to tune his lute. 

But gods are gracious ; and their altars make 165 
Pretious the offrings that their altars take. 

To TUK yUEKX. 267 

Give tlieu this rurall wreath fue froiii thine eyes, 
This rurall \vreatli dares be thy sacrifice. 


This poem was originally entitled (as supni) ' Upon the Duke 
of York's Birth." As new children were born additions were made 
to it and the title altered. Cf. the Latin poem in our vol. ii. ad 

The childi-en celebrated were the following : Charles James, 
born May 13, l(i28, died the same daj' ; the Queen's first child : 
Charles II., born Jlay 29, 1630: James, who is placed before 
his sister Mary, who was older than he ; born Oct. 14, 1633 ; 
aftenvards James II. : Piincess Mary, born Nov. 4, 1631, after- 
wards mother of William III. : Princess Elizabeth, bom Dec. 
28, 1635 ; died of gi-ief at her father's traf^cal end, Sept. 8, 
1650 ; was bmied in the church at Newport, Isle of Wight, 
where her remains were found in 17!)3. Vaughan the SUmist 
has a tine poem to her memory (our edition, vol. ii. pp. 115-17) : 
Anne, born March 17, 1636-7 ; she died Dec. 8, 1640 (Crasbaw 
from fii'st to last keeps Death out of his poem) : Henry, born 
July 8, 1640, afterwards Duke of Gloucester and Earl of Cam- 
bridge. Hemietta Anne, born June 16, 1644, is not named. 

The title in 1646 is ' Vpon the Duke of Yorke his Bii-th : a 
Pancgyiicke ;' and so in 1670, which throughout agi-ees with 
that very imperfect text, except in one deplorable blunder of 
its own left uncorrected by Tuenbull, as noted below. The 
heading in the S.^ncroft ms. is ' A PauegjTick vpon the birth 
of the Duke of Yorke. R. Cr.' 

Line 7, in 1646 'glories' for 'honours.' In the Sancroft 
MS. line 8 reads ' As sitts alone . . . .' 
Line 15, ib. ' 0' for ' Sure.' 
„ 16, ib. ' Th' art.' 

,, 29-32 restored from 1648. Not in Sancuoft ms. 
,, 33. These headings here and onward omitted hitherto. 
,, 34, in 1646 ' gi-eat' for ' bright.' 

,, 43, our text (1648) misprints ' owne' for ' one' of Voces 

Line 50, 1646 oddly misprints ' those Cherrimock.' 


Line 52, 1646, ' art' for ' wert.' 
,, 54, ib. ' may'gf for ' did'st.' 
,, 55, ib. ' th' art' for ' th' hadst.' 
,, 64-70 restored from 1648. Not in Saxcroft ms. 
,, 74, 1646, ' pearls' for ' tears.' So the Sancroft ms. 
,, 78-118, all these lines — most characteristic — restored 
fi-om 1648. TcRN'BULL overlooked them. Not in the San- 
croft MS. 

Line 140, 1670 drops a line here, and thus confuses, 

' A brood of phenixes, and still the mother : 
And may we long : long may'st thou live t' encrease 
The house,' &c. 

Peregrine Phillips in his selections fromCRASHAW (1785), fol- 
lowing the text of 1670, says in a foot-note, 'A line seems 
wantinft, but is so in the oripnal copy.' Tubnbull follows 
suit and says, ' Here a line seems deficient.' If either had con- 
sulted the ' original' editions, which both professed to know, it 
would have saved them from this and numerous kindred blun- 

Line 145, 1646, 'Ught' for 'life.' 
,, 151, ib. ' that's.' 
,, 170, ib. ' theii-' for ' the offerings.' 

In line 27 ' Thee therefore &c.' is a thought not unfrequent 
with the panegyi'ists of James. Ben Jonson makes use of it 
at least twice. In the Masque of Blackness we have, 

' With that great name Britannia, this blest isle 
Hath won her ancient dignity and style ; 
A world diridwl from a world, and tried 
The abstract of it, in his general pride.' 

Shakespeare used the same thought more nobly when he made 
it the theme of that glorious outbui'st of patriotism from the 
lips of the dying Gaunt. G. 


Take these, Time's tardy truants, sent by me i 

To be cliastis'd (sweet frieiul) and chide by thee. 

Pale sons of our Pomona ! whose wan cheekes 

Have spent the patience of expecting ■weekes, 

Yet are scarce ripe enough at best to sliow 5 

The redd, but of tlie blush to thee they ow. 

I>y thy comparrison they shall put on ' 

^lore Summer in their shame's reflection, 

Than ere the fruitfull Pha'bus' flaming kisses 

Kindled on their cold lips. had my wishes 1 o 

And the deare merits of your Muse, their due, 

The yeare had found some fruit early as you ; 

Ripe as those rich composures Time computes 

Blossoms, but our blest tast confesses fruits. 

How does thy April- Autumne mocke these cold 15 

Progressions 'twixt whose termes poor Time grows old ! 

1 Appeared originally in 1648 ' Delights ;' but is not given in 
11)70 edition. Line 14 is an exquisitely-tnrned allusion to Cowley's 
title-page of his juvenile Poems, 'Poetical iJ/os^ows,' 1G33. 'Apri- 
cocks' = apricots. So Heurick in the ' Maiden Blush," 

' Sn cheiTies 1 ilusli , ami katheni pearc?. 
And apricocis, in youthfull ycares.' 

(Works, by Hazhtt. vol. ii. p. 2«7.) G. 


With thee alone he weares no beard, thy brainc 

Gives him the morning "World's fresh gold againe. 

'Twas only Paradice, 'tis onely thou, 19 

Whose fruit and blossoms both blesse the same bough. 

Proud in the patterne of thy pretious youth, 

Nature (methinks) might easily mend her growth. 

Could she in all her births but coppie thee, 

Into the publick yeares proliciencie, 

No fruit should have the face to smUe on thee 25 

(Young master of the World's maturitie) 

But such whose sun-borne beauties what they borrow 

Of beames to day, pay back again to morrow. 

Nor need be double-gilt. How then must these 

Poor fruites looke pale at thy Hesperides ! 30 

Faine would I chide their slownesse, but in their 

Defects I draw mine own dull character. 

Take them, and me in them acknowledging, 

How much my Summer waites upon thy Spring. 



The First Elegik. 

I LATE the Roman youth's loud prayse and pride, i 

Whom long none could obtain, though thousands try'd ; 

Lo, here am left (alas !) For my lost mate 

T* embrace my teares, and kisse an vnkind fate. 

Sure in my early woes starres were at strife, 5 

And try'd to make a widow ere a wife. 

Nor can I teU (and this new teares doth breed) 

In what strange path, my lord's fair footsteppes bleed. 

knew I where he wander'd, I should see 

Some solace in my sorrow's certainty : i o 

I'd send my woes in words should weep fQr me, 

(AVTio knowes how powerfull weU-writt praires would 

Sending's too slow a word ; myselfe would fly. [be.) 

T^^lo knowes my own heart's woes so well as I ? 

1 Appeared originally in the ' Delights' of 1648 (pp. G7-8) : was 
reprinted in 1G52 (pp. 115-120) and 1(!70 (pp. 200-4). Our text is 
that of 1G52, as before; but see various readings at close of the 
poems. See also our Essay for critical remarks. Our poet translates 
from the Latin of Fr.\ncis Ri;moxi>. G. 


But how shall I steal hence? Alexis thou, 15 

Ah thou thy self, alas ! hast taught me how. 

Loue too that leads the M'ay would lend the wings 

To bear me harmlesse through the hardest things. 

And where Loue lends the wing, and leads the way, 

What dangers can there be dare say me nay? 20 

If I be shipwrack't, Loue shall teach to swininie : 

If drown'd, sweet is the death indur'd for him : 

Tlie noted sea shall change his name with me, 

I 'mongst the blest starres, a new name shall be. 

And sure where louers make their watry graues, 25 

The weeping mariner will augment the wane?. 

For who so hard, but passing by that way 

Will take acquaintance of my woes, and say 

Here 'twas the lioman maid found a hard fate, 29 

"WHiile through the World she sought her wandring mate 

Here perish't she, poor heart ; - Heauns, be my vowes 

As true to me, as she was to her spouse. 

O liue, so rare a loue ! liue ! and in thee 

The too frail life of femal constancy. 

Farewell ; and shine, fair soul, shine there aboue 3 5 

Firm in thy crown, as here fast in thy loue. 

There thy lost fugitiue th' hast found at last : 

Be happy ; and for euer hold him fast. 

The Second Elegie. 
Though all the ioyes I had, fled hence Avith thee, i 
Vnkiud ! yet are my teares still true to me : 


I'm wedded o're again since thou art gone ; 
Nor couldst thou, cruell, leauu nu; ([uite alone. 
Alexis' widdow now is Sorrow's wile, 5 

With liuu shiill I weep out my weary life. 
Wellcome, my sad-sweet mate ! Now haue I gott 
At last a constant Loue, that leaues me not : 
Firm he, as thou art false ; nor need my cryes 
Thus vex the Earth and teare the beauteous skyes. 10 
For him, alas ! n'ere shall I need to be 
Troublesom to the world thus as for thee : 
For thee I talk to trees ; with sUent groues 
Expostidate my woes and mucli-\vrong'd loues ; 
Hills and relentlesse rockes, or if there be 15 

Things that in hardnesse more allude to thee, 
To these I talk in teares, and tell my pain, 
And answer too for them in teares again. 
How oft haue I wept out the weary sun ! 
My watry hour-glasse hath old Time's outruiine. 20 
O I am learned grown : poor Loue and I 
Haue study'd ouer all Astrology ; 
I'm perfect in Heaun's state ; with euery starr 
My skillfull greife is grown familiar. 
Eisc, fairest of those fires ; what'ere thou be 25 

"\\Tiose rosy beam shall point my sun to me. 
Such as the sacred light that e'rst did bring 
The Eastern princes to their infant King, 
() rise, pure lamp ! and lend thy golden ray 
That weaiy Loue at last may find his way. 30 

VOL. 1. NX 


The Third Elegie. 
EiCH, churlish Land ! that hid'st so long in thee i 
My treasures ; rich, alas ! by robbing mee. 
Needs must my miseryes owe that man a spite 
Who e're he be was the first wandring kuiglit. 
O had he nere been at that cruell cost 5 

Natvre's virginity had nere been lost ; 
Seas had not bin rebuk't by sawcy oares 
But ly'n lockt vp safe in their sacred shores ; 
^len had not spurn'd at niountaines ; nor made warrs 
With rocks, nor bold hands struck the World's strong 
barres, i o 

Nor lost in too larg bounds, our little Rome 
Full sweetly with it selfe had dwell't at home. 
My poor Alexis, then, in peacefull life 
Had ^Tider some low roofe lou'd his plain wife ; 
But now, ah me ! from Avhere he has no foes 1 5 

He flyes ; and into willfull exile goes. 
Cruell, return, O tell the reason why 
Thy dearest parents have deseru'd to dy. 
And I, what is my crime, I cannot tell, 
Vnlesse it be a crime t' haue lou'd too well. 20 

If heates of holyer loue and high desire, 
^lake bigge thy fair brest with immortall fire, 
"\Miat needes my virgin lord tly thus from me, 
Who only Avish his virgin wife to be 1 
Witnesse, chast Heauns ! no happyer vowes I know 2 5 
Then to a virgin grave vntouch't to goe. 

AhKXlAS. 275 

Loue's truest knott by \'eiius is not ty'd, 

Nov doe embraces onely make a bride. 

The queen of angels (.and men chast as you) 

Was maiden-wife and maiden-mother too. 30 

Cecilia, glory of her name and blood, 

With happy gain her maiden-vowes made good : 

The lusty bridegroom made ajtjtroach ; young man 

Take heed (said she) take lieed, "\"alerian ! 

My bosome's giiard, a spirit great and strong, 35 

Stands arm'd, to sheild me from all wanton wrong ; 

My chastity is sacred ; and my Sleep 

Wakefull, her dear vowes vndelU'd to keep. 

Pallas beares armes, forsooth ; and should there be 

No fortresse built for true Virginity t 40 

No gaping Gorgon, this : none, like the rest 

Of your learn'd lyes. Here you'll find no such iest. 

I'm your's : were my God, my Christ so too, 

I'd know no name of Loue on Earth but you. 

He yeilds, and straight baptis'd, obtains the grace 45 

To gaze on the fair souldier's glorious face. 

Both mixt at last their blood in one rich bed 

Of rosy martyrdome, twice married. 

bm-n our Hymen bright in such high iiame, 

Thy torch, terrestriall Loue, haue here no name. 50 

How sweet the mutuall yoke of man and wife, 

When holy fires maintain Loue's heaunly life ! 

But I (so help me Heaun my hopes to see) 

When thousanels sought my loue, lou'd none but thee. 


Still, as their vain teares my firm vowes did tiy, 55 
Alexis, he alone is mine (said I). 
Half true, alas ! half false, proues that poor lint', 
Alexis is alone ; but is not mine. 


The heading iu 1648 omits ' Sainte.' These variations fi-oni 
IH48 are interesting : 

let Elegy : Line 9, ' would' for ' should.' 
Line 17, our text (1652) di'ops ' way' inadvertently. Tukn- 
BtiLL tinkers it by reading ' thee' for ' the,' instead of collating 
the texts. 

Line 23, ' its' for ' his.' 
,, 25, ' when' for ' where.' 

,, 37, I have adopted ' th' ' for ' thou' of our text (1652). 
2d Elegy : Line 1, om- text (1652) misspells ' fleed.' 
Line 3, ib. mispiints ' I' am.' 
,, 10, ib. di-ops ' beauteous' inadvertently. Turnbull, 
for a wonder, wakes up here to notice a deficient word ; but 
again, instead of collating his texts, inserts without authority 
' lofty.' Had he turned to 1648 edition, he would have found 
' beauteous.' 

Line 20, I have adopted ' Time's' for ' Time.' 
,, 23, as in line 17 in 1st Elegy. 

,, 30, a reference to the ' Love wUl find out the way,' 
iu the old song ' Over the mountain.' ' Weary' is misprinted 
' Wary' in 1670. 

3d Elegy : Line 7, ' with' for ' by.' 
Line 17, our text (1652) misprints ' Or' for ' O.' 
,, 20, I accept ' t' ' for ' to.' 

,. 29, ' The Blessed Virgin' for ' The queen of angels.' 
., 41, ' facing" for ' gaping.' 
,, 43, as in line 17 in 1st Elegj-. 
,, 50, ' hath' for ' haue.' 
,, 51, ' sweet's' for ' sweet.' 
,, 54, our text (1652) misprints ' thousand.' G. 



See Note on page 184 for reference on the title here and 
elsewhere of ' AireUeB.' G. 


Sound forth, crelcstiall organs, let lieauen's quire 

Ravish the dancing orbes, make them mount higher 

With nimble capers, & force Atlas tread 

Vpon his tiptoes, e're his siluer head 

Shall kisse his golden curthen. Thou glad Isle, 

That swim'st as deepe in joy, as seas, now smile ; 

Lett not thy Aveighty glories, this full tide 

Of blisse, debase thee ; but with a just pride 

Swell : swell to such an height, that thou maist vye 

With heauen itselfe for stately majesty. 

Doe not deceiue mee, eyes : doe I not see 

In this blest earth heauen's bright epitome, 

Circled with pure refinM glory ? lieere 

I view a rising sunne in this our sphere, 

Whose blazing beames, maugre the blackest night. 

And mists of greife, dare force a joyfuU light. 

The gold, in w"*" he flames, does well prsesage 

A precious season, & a golden age. 

Doe I not see joy keepe his revels now, 

And sitt triumphing in each cheerfull brow ? 

1 Charles I. See our Essay on this ami kiiulreil poems, anil their 
relation to the Latin royal poems. G. 


Vnmixt felicity witli siluer wings 

Broodeth this sacred place : hither Peace brings 

The choicest of her oliue-crownes, & praies 

To haue them guilded with his courteous raies. 

Doe I not see a Cynthia, who may 

Abash the purest beauties of the day ? 

To whom heauen's lampes often in silent night 

Steale from their stations to repaire their light. 

Doe I not see a constellation, 

Each little beame of w"*" would make a sunne ? 

I meane those three great starres, who well may scorn 

Acquaintance with the vslier of the morne. 

To gaze vpon such starres each humble eye 

Would be ambitious of astronomie. 

Who would not be a phoenix, & aspire 

To sacrifice himselfe in such sweet fire 1 

Shine forth, ye flaming sparkes of Deity, 

Yee perfect emblemes of divinity. 

Fixt in your spheres of glory, shed from thence. 

The treasures of our Hues, your influence. 

For if you sett, who may not justly feare, 

The world will he one ocean, one great teare. 


Strange metamorphosis ! It was but now 
The sullen lieauen liad vail'd its mournful! brow 


With a black maske : tho clouds vnih child by CJrcife 

Traueld th' Olympian plaines to find releifu. 

But at the last (having not soe much power 

As to refraine) brought forth a costly shower 

Of pearly drops, &: sent her niunerous birth 

(As tokens of her greife) vnto the Earth. 

Alas, the Earth, quick drunke ■with toares, liad rcelM 

From of her center, had not loue vjjheld 

The staggering lumpe : each oye spent all its store. 

As if heereafter they woidd weepe noc more : 

Streight from this sea of tcares there docs appeare 

Full glory flaming in her owne free sphere. 

Amazed Sol thi'owes of his mournfuU weeds, 

Speedily harnessing his fiery steeds, 

Vp to Olympus' stately topp he liies. 

From whence his glorious rivall hee espies. 

Then wondring starts, & had the curteous night 

Withheld her vaile, h' had forfeited his siglit. 

The joyfull sphceres with a delicious sound 

Afright th' amazed aire, and dance a round 

To their owne musick, nor (untill they sec 

This glorious Phoebus sett) will quiet bee. 

Each aery Siren now hath gott her song. 

To whom tlie merry lambes doe tripp along 

The laughing meades, as joyfull to behold 

Their winter coates couer'd with flaming gold. 

Such was the brightnesse of this Northerne starre, 

It made the virgin phrcnix come from farre 

VOL. I. 00 


To be rcpair'd : hither she did resort, 
Thinking her father had remou'd his Court. 
The lustre of his face did shine soe bright, 
That Eonie's bold egles now were blinded quite ; 
The radiant darts shott from his sparlding eyes, 
Made euery mortall gladly sacrifice 
A heart burning in louc ; all did adore 
This rising sunne ; their faces nothing wore, 
But smiles, and ruddy joyes, and at this day 
All melancholy clouds vanisht away. 


Bright starre of ^lajesty, oh shedd on mee, 

A precious influence, as sweet as thee. 

That with each word, my loaden pen letts fall, 

The fragrant Spring may be perfum'd withall. 

That Sol from them may suck an honied shower, 

To glutt the stomack of his darling flower. 

AYith such a sugred livery made fine. 

They shall proclaime to all, that they are thine. 

Lett none dare speake of thee, but such as thence 

Extracted haue a balmy eloquence. 

* See our Notes to Panejcyric ou the Queen's ' numerous pro- 
genie.' G. 


But then, alas, my heart ! oh liow sliall 1 

Cure thee of thy delightfull tympanic 1 

I caunot hold ; s\ich a spmig-tide of joy 

Jlust haue a passage, or 'twill force a way. 

Yet shall my loyall tongue keepe this coiiiand : 

But giue me leaue to ease it with my hand. 

And though these humble lines soare not soe high, 

As is thy birth ; yet from thy flaming eye 

Drop downe one sparke of glory, & they'l proue 

A prx'sent worthy of Apollo's loue. 

My quill to thee may not pra}sume to sing : 

Lett th' hallowed plume of a seraphick wang 

Bee consecrated to this worke, while I 

Chant to my selfe with rustick melodie. 

Rich, liberall heauen, what hath yo' treasure store 
Of such bright angells, that you giue vs more ? 
Had you, like our great sunne, stamped but one 
For earth, t' had beene an ample portion. 
Had you but dra^vne one liuely coppy forth, 
That might interpret our fahe Cyntliia's worth, 
Y' had done enough to make the lazy ground 
Dance, like the nimble spheres, a joyfuU round. 
But such is the ccelestiall excellence, 
That in the princely patterne shines, from whence 
The rest pourtraicted are, that 'tis noe paine 
To ra\ heauen to limbe them o're againe. 
Wittnesse this mapp of beauty ; euery part 
Of w"'" doth show the i^uiutessence of art. 


See ! nothing's vulgar, every atome lieere 

Speakes the great wisdonie of th' artificer. 

Poore Earth hath not enough perfection, 

To shaddow forth th' admired paragon. 

Those sparkling twiuues of light should I now stile 

Rich diamonds, sett in a pure siluer foyle ; 

Or call her chcekc a bed of new-blo\vnc roses ; 

And say that ivory her front composes ; 

Or should I say, that with a scarlet wane 

Those plumpe soft rubies had bin drest soe braue ; 

Or that the dying lilly did bestow 

Vpon her neck the whitest of his snow ; 

Or that the purple violets did lace 

That hand of milky downe ; all these are base ; 

Her glories I should dimme with things soe grosse, 

And foule the cleare text with a muddy glosse. 

Goe on then, Heauen, & limbe forth such another, 

Draw to this sister miracle a brother ; 

Compile a first glorious epitome 

Of heauen, & Earth, & of all raritie ; 

And sett it forth in the same happy j^lace. 

And I'le not blurre it with my paraplu'asc. 


Little, buzzing, wanton elfe 
Perish there, and thanke tliv selfe. 


Tliou deseru'st thy life to loose, 

For distracting such a Muse. 

Was it thy amhitious aime 

l>y thy death to purchase fame? 

Didst thou hope he would in pitty 

llaue bestoVd a funcrall ditty 

On thy ghoast 1 and thou in that 

To liaue outliuod Virgill's gnatt ? 

No ! The treason thou hast wi-ought 

Might forbid thee such a thought. 

If tliat Night's worke doe miscarry, 

Or a syllable but vary ; 

A greater foe thou shalt me find, 

The destruction of thy kind. 

Phoebus, to revenge thy fault. 

In a fiery trapp thee caught ; 

That thy winged mates might know it, 

And not dare distui'be a poet. 

Deare and wretched was thy sport, 

Since thyselfe Avas crushed for't ; 

Scarcely had that life a breath, 

Yet it found a double death ; 

T'laying in the golden flames, 

Thou fell'st into an inky Thames ; 

Scorch'd and drown'd. That petty sunne 

A pretty Icarus hatli vndonc. 


Ales J'luuiaeu petita Colchis, ic. 

The bird that's fetch't from Phasis floud, 
Or choicest heimes of AMck-brood ; 
These please our palates ; and why these 1 
'Cause they can but seldome please. 
Whil'st the goose soe goodly white, 
And the drake,- yeeld noe delight, 
Though his wings' conceited hewe 
Paint each feather, as if new. 
These for vvdgar stomacks be, 
And rellish not of rarity. 
But the dainty Scarus, sought 
In farthest cLune ; what e're is bought 
AVith shipwrack's toUe, oh, that is sweet, 
'Cause the quicksands hansell'd it. 
The pretious barbill, now groAvne rife. 
Is cloying meat. How stale is wife ] 
Deare wife hath ne're a handsome letter. 
Sweet mistris sounds a great deale better. 
Eose quakes at name of cinnamon, 
Unlesse't be rare, what's thought vi)on ? 

1 Jetronius, Satjiicon, cap. 03. G. 


Ille el ne/aslo te posiiit die, rfr. 

Shame of tlij- mother soyle ! ill-nurtuv'd trco ! 
Sett, to the mischeifo of posteritie ! 
That hand (what e're it wer) that was thy nurse, 
"Was sacrilegious (sure) or sonicwliat Avorse. 
Black, as the day was dismall, in whose sight 
Thy rising topp first stain'd the bashful! light. 
That man — I thinke — wrested the feeble life 
From his old father, that man's barbaroiis knife 
Conspir'd with darknes 'gainst the strangers throato : 
(Wliereof the blushing Avalles tooke bloody note) 
Huge high-Houne poysons, eu'n of Colchos breed, 
And whatsoe're wild sinnes black thoughts doe feed, 
His hands haue padled in ; his hands, that found 
Thy traiterous root a dwelling in my ground. 
Perfidious totterer ! longing for the staines 
Of thy kind INIaster's well-deseruing braines. 
!Man's daintiest care, Sz caution cannot spy 
The subtile point of his coy destiny, 
W*' way it threats. "With feare the merchant's mind 
Is plough'd as deepe, as is the sea with wiml, 
(Rowz'd in an angrj'^ tempest). Oh the sea ! 
Oh ! that's his feare ; there flotes his destinj' : 


While from another (vnseene) comer blowes 
The storme of fate, to v/"^ his life he owes ; 
By Parthians bow the soldier lookes to die, 
(Whose hands are fighting, while their feet doe flie.) 
The Parthian starts at Konie's iniperiall name, 
riedg'd with her eagle's wing ; the very chaine 
Of liis captivity rings in his eares. 
Thus, 6 thus fondly doe wee pitch our feares 
Farre distant from our fates, our fates, that mocke 
Our giddy feares with an vnlook't for shocke. 

A little more, & I had surely scene 
Thy greisly Majesty, Hell's blackest Queene ; 
And CEacus on his tribunall too, 
Sifting the soules of guilt; & you, (oh you !) 
You euer-blushing meads, where doe the blest 
farre from darke horrors home appeale to rest. 
There amorous Sappho plaines vpon her lute 
Her loue's crosse fortune, that the sad dispute 
Eunnes murmuring on the strings. Alcicus there 
In high-built numbers wakes his golden lyre 
To tell the world, how hard the matter went, 
How hard by sea, by warre, by banishment. 
There these braue soules deale to each wondring care 
Such words, soe precious, as they may not weare 
Without religious silence ; aboue all 
Warre's ratling tunudts, or some tyrant's falL 
The thronging clotted multitude doth feast : 
What wonder ? when the hundred-headed beast 


Hangs his black lugges, stroakt with those heavenly 

Imcs ; ears 

The Furies' curl'd snakes meet in gentle twines, 
And stretch then- cold liiubes in a pleasing fire. 
Prometheus selfe, and Pelops sterv6d sire 
Are cheated of their paines ; Orion thinkes 
Of lions now noe more, or spotted linx. 


Ika, siderei seu tu stirps alma tonaiUis, <tc. 

Bright goddesse (whether Joue thy father be, 

Or Jove a father will be made by thee) 

Oh cro-wne these praiers (mov'd in a happy bower) 

But Avith one cordiall smile for Cloe. That power 

Of Louc's all-dariug hand, that makes me bui-ne. 

Makes me confess't. Oh, doe not thou with scome. 

Great nymph, o'relooke my lownessc. Heau'n you know 

And aU their feUow-deities will bow 

Eu'n to the naked'st vowes. Thou art my fate ; 

To thee the Parcje haue given vp of late 

My threds of life : if then I shall not live 

By thee, by thee yet lett me die ; this giue, 

High Beautie's soveraigne, that my funerall flames 

INIay draw their first breath from thy starry beames. 

The pha-nix' selfe shall not more proudly burne. 

That fetcheth fresh life from her fruitful! vrne. 




Hath aged •mnter, lledg'd "witli feathered raine, 

To frozen Caucasus his flight now tane 1 

Doth hee in downy snow there closely shrowd 

His bedrid Ummes, wrapt in a fleecy clowd 1 

Is th' Earth disrobed of her apron white, 

Kind Winter's guift, & in a greene one dight ? 

Doth she beginne to dandle in her lappe 

Her painted infants, fedd vnth pleasant pappe, 

W^ their bright father in a pretious showre 

From heaven's sweet mUky streame doth gently poure? 

Doth blith Apollo cloath the heavens with joye, 

And with a golden wane wash cleane away 

Those durty smutches, w* their faire fronts wore, 

And make them laugh, w* froAvn'd, & wept before ? 

If heaven hath now forgot to weepe ; 6 then 

What meane these shoures of teares amongst vs men 1 

These cataracts of griefe, that dare eu'n vie 

With th' richest clowds their pearly treasurie 1 

^ See notice of Stanuiough in our Essay, as before. G. 


K Winters gone, whence this vntimely cold, 

That on these snowy liiunies hath laid such hold ? 

What more than winter hath that dire art found, 

These purple currents hedg'd with violets round. 

To corrallize, w*^^** softly wont to slide 

In crimson waueletts, & in scarlet tide 1 

If Flora's darlings now awake from sleepe, 

And out of their greene mantletts dare to peeps 

tell me then, what rude outragious hlast 

Forc't this prime flowi'e of youth to make such hast ? 

To liide his blooming glories, & bequeath 

His balmy treasure to the bedd of death ] 

'Twas not the frozen zone ; one sparke of fire, 

Shott from his flaming eye, had thaw'd its ire. 

And made it burne in loue : 'twas not the rage, 

And too vngentle nipjie of frosty age : 

'Twas not the chast, & purer snow, whose nest 

Was in the m5dest nunnery of his brest : 

l^oe, none of these ravish't those virgin roses. 

The Muses, & the Graces fragrant posies. 

W**, while they snuliiig sate v^^on his face, 

They often kist, & in the sugred place 

Left many a starry teare, to thinke how soone 

The golden liarvest of our joyes, the noone 

Of all our glorious hopes should fade. 

And be eclijjsed with an envious shade. 

Noe 'twas old doting Death, who stealing by, 

Dragging his crooked burthen, look't awry. 


And streight his amorous syth (greedy of blisse) 
Murdred the Earth's just pride with a rude kisse. 
A winged herald, gladd of soe sweet a prey, 
Snatch't vpp the falling starre, soe riclily gay, 
And plants it in a precious perfum'd bedd, 
Amongst those lillies, w"*" his bosoms bredd. 
Where round about hovers with siluer wing 
A golden Summer, an ffiternall Spring. 
Now that liis root such fruit againe may beare, 
Let each eye water 't with a courteous teare. 


Hee's dead ! Oh what harsh musick's there 
Vnto a choyce, aijd curious eare ! 
Wee must that Discord surely call, 
Since sighs doe rise and teares doe fall. 
Teares fall too low, sighes rise too high, 
How then can there be harmony? 
But who is he 1 him may wee know 
That jarres and spoiles sweet consort soe ? 
O Death, 'tis thou : you false time keepe. 
And stretch'st thy dismall voice too deepe. 
Long time to quavering Age you giue, 
But to large Youth, short time to Hue. 
You take vpon you too too much, 
In striking where you should not touch. 


How out of tuno tho world now lies, 

Since youth must fall, when it should rise ! 

Gone bo all consort, since alone 

He that once bore the best part 's gone. 

Whose whole life, musick was ; wherein 

Each vertue for a part came in. 

And though that musick of his life be still. 

The musick of his name yett soundeth shrill. 


Stay, silver-footed Came, striue not to wed 

Thy maiden streames soe soone to Neptune's bed ; 

Fixe heere thy wat'ry eyes upon these towers, 

Vnto whose feet in reuerence of the powers, 

That there inliabite, thou on euery day 

With trembling lippes an humble kisse do'st pay. 

See all in mourning now ; the walles are jett, 

With pearly papers carelesly besett. 

Whose snowy cheekes, least joy should be exprest. 

The weeping pen with sable teares hath drest. 

Their wronged beauties speake a tragoedy. 

Somewhat more horrid than an elegy. 

Pure, & vnmixed cruelty they tell, 

W"*" poseth ]\Iischeife's selfe to parallel. 

Justice hath lost her hand, the law her head ; 

Peace is an orphan now ; her father's dead. 

1 See our Essay, as before, for notice of Portkr. G. 


Honestie's nurse, Vertue's blest guardian, 

That heauenly niortall, that seraphick man. 

Enough is said, now, if thou canst crowd on 

Thy lazy crawling streames, pri'thee be gone. 

And murmur forth thy woes to euery flower. 

That on thy bankes sitts in a uerdant bower. 

And is instructed by thy glassy waue 

To paint its perfum'd face w"" colours braue. 

In vailes of dust their silken heads they'le hide, 

As if the oft-departing sunne had dy'd. 

Goe learne that fatall quire, soe sprucely dight 

In downy surplisses, & vestments white, 

To sing their saddest dirges, such as may 

Make their scar'd soules take wing, & fly away. 

Lett thy swolne breast discharge thy strugling groanes 

To til' churlish rocks ; & teach the stubbome stones 

To melt in gentle drops, lett them be heard 

Of all proud Neptune's sUuer-sheilded guard ; 

That greife may crack that string, & now vntie 

Their shackled tongues to chant an elegie. 

Whisper thy plaints to th' Ocean's curteous eares, 

Then weej^e thyselfe into a sea of teares. 

A thousand Helicons the Muses send 

In a bright christall tide, to thee they send. 

Leaving those mines of nectar, their sweet fountaines, 

They force a lilly path through rosy mountaines. 

Feare not to dy with greife ; all bubling eyes 

Are teeming now with store of fresh supplies. 






To the volume of 1652 (' Carmen Deo Nostro' &c.) was pre- 
fixed a Verse-letter to tlie Codntess of Denbigh, illustrated 
with an engi-aving of a ' locked heart,' as reproduced in our 
quarto edition. In 1653 (' Sept. 23, 1653'), as appears from a 
contemporai-y marking in the unique copy in the British Mu- 
seum, the following was printed : ' A Letter from Mr. Crashaw 
to the Countess of Denbigh. Against In-esolution and Delay in 
matters of Keligion. London, n.d.' (4to). CoUation : title-page 
and 3 pages, page 1st on reverse of title-page (British Museum 
E. 220. 2.). The Paris copy is vei-y imperfect fi-om some un- 
explained reason (68 as against 90 Hues), and it would seem 
that some friend of the deceased poet, dissatisfied with it, 
and having in his (or her) possession a fuller ms., piinted, if 
not pubUshed it. We give the enlarged text — never before 
noticed, having been only named, without taking the trouble 
to consult and compare it, by Tubnbdll ; and for the student 
add the abbreviated form from 1652 ' Carmen,' as it, in turn, 
has lines and words not in the other. See our Essay for more 
on this most chai-acteristic poem, and relative to the Countess 
of Denbigh. G. 


What Heav'ii-besieged heart is this i 

Stands trembling at tl\e Gate of Blisse : 

Holds fast the door, yet dares not venture 

Fairly to open and to enter 1 

"WTiose definition is, A Doubt ; 

'TAvixt life and death, 'twixt In and Out. 

Ah ! linger not, lov'd soul : a slow 

And late consent was a long No. 

Who grants at last, a great while try'de 

And did his best, to have deny'de 

"What magick-bolts, what mystick barrs 
]Maintain the Will in these strange warrs 1 
What fatall, yet fantastick, bands 
Keep the free heart from his own hands 1 
Say, lingring Fair, why comes the birth 
Of your brave soul so slowly forth 1 
Plead your pretences (0 you strong 
In weaknesse !) why you chuse so long 
In labour of your self to ly, 
Not daring quite to li-\-e nor die. 





80 when the Year takes cold we see 
Poor waters their own prisoners be : 
Fetter'd and lock'd up fast they lie 
In a cold self-captivity. [plore, 

Th' astonish'd Xyniphs their Floud's strange fate de- 
To find themselves their own severer shoar. 26 

Love, that lends haste to heaviest things, 
In you alone hath lost his wings. 
Look round and reade the World's wide face, 
The field of Nature or of Grace ; 30 

"\^^lere can you fix, to find excuse 
Or i^attern for the pace you use 1 
Mark with what faith fruits answer flowers, 
And know the call of Heav'n's kind showers : 
Each mindfull plant hasts to make good 35 
The hope and promise of his bud. 
Seed-time's not all ; there should be harvest too. 
Alas ! and has the Year no Spring for you ? 
Both winds and waters urge their way, 
And murmure if they meet a stay. 40 

^Mark how the curl'd waves work and wind, 
All hating to be left behind. 
Each bigge with businesse thrusts the other, 
And seems to say, Make haste, my brother. 
The aiery nation of neat doves, ^j?//'e 45 

That draw the chariot of chast Loves, 
Chide your delay : yea those dull things, 
"\\niose wayes have least to doe Avith Avings, 


lilake wings at least of their own weight, 

And by theii- love contvoll their Fate. 50 

So lumpish steel, nntaught to move, 

Learn'd first his lightnesse by his love. 

"What e're Love's matter be, he moves 
By th' even wings of his own doves. 
Lives by his own laws, and does hold 55 

In grossest metalls his own gold. 

All things swear friends to Fair and Good 
Yea suitoiirs ; man alone is wo'ed. 
Tediously wo'ed, and hardly wone : 
Only not slow to be undone. 60 

As if the bargain had been driven 
So hardly betwixt Farth and Heaven ; 
Our God would thrive too fast, and be 
Too much a gainer by't, should we 
Our purchas'd selves too soon bestow 65 

On Him, who has not lov'd us so. 
When love of us call'd Him to see 
If wee'd vouchsafe His company, 
He left His Father's Court, and came 
Lightly as a lambent flame, 70 

Leaping upon the hills, to be 
The humble king of you and me. 
Nor can the cares of His whole crown 
("When one poor sigh sends for Him down) 
Detain Him, but He leaves behind 75 

The late wings of tlic lazy Avind, 


Spurns the tame laws of Time and Place, 
And breaks through all ten heav'ns to our embrace. 
Yield to His siege, wise soul, and see 

Your triumph in His victory. 80 

Disband dull feares, give Faith the day : 

To save your life, kill your Delay. 

'Tis cowardise that keeps this field ; 

And want of courage not to yield. 

Yield then, O jdeld, that Love may win 85 

The Fort at last, and let Life in. 

Yield quickly, lest perhaps you prove 

Death's prey, before the prize of Love. 
This fort of j'our fair self if 't be not wone, 
He is repuls'd indeed, but you'r undone. 90 



From ' Cabmen Deo Nostro' (1G52). 
Noil vi. 

' "Tis not the work of force but skill 
To find the waj' into mnn's will. 
'Tis loue alone can hearts unlock ; 
Who knowes the Word, he needs not knock.' 

To the noblest and best of Ladyes, the Countesse of Denbigh, 
perswading her to Resohition in Religion, and to render 
her selfe without further delay into the Communion of the 
Catholick Chui-ch. 

"What heau'n-intreated heart is this 
Stands trembling at the gate of blisse 1 
Holds fast the door, yet dares not venture 
Fairly to open it, and enter. 
Whose definition is a doubt 
'Twixt life and death, 't-\nxt in and out. 
Say, lingring Fair! why comes the birth 
Of your brave soul so slowly forth 1 
Plead your pretences (0 you strong 
In wealcnes !) why you choose so long 
In labor of your selfe to ly, 
Xor daring quite to hue nor dy? 
Ah ! linger not, lou'd soul ! a slow 
And late consent was a long no ; 
Wlio grants at last, long time try'd 
And did his best to haue deny'd : 



302 xoN VI. 

What niagick bolts, what mystick baiTes 

]\Iaintain the will in these strange warres 1 

"What fatall yet fantastick, bands 

Keep the free heart from its own hands? 20 

So when the year takes cold, we see 

Poor waters their o^vn prisoners be : 

Fetter'd and lockt vp they ly 

In a sad selfe-captivity. 24 

The astonisht nymphs their flood's strange fate deplore, 

To see themselues their own seuerer shore. 

Thou that alone canst thaw this cold, 

And fetch the heart from its strong-hold ; 

Allmighty Love ! end this long warr, 

And of a meteor make a starr. , 30 

O flx this fair Indefinite ! 

And 'mongst Thy shafts of soueraign light 

Choose out that sure decisiue dart 

"Which has the key of this close heart, 

Knowes aU the corners of 't, and can controul 3 5 

The self-shutt cabinet of an vnsearcht soul. 

O let it be at last, Loue's hour ! 

Raise this tall troj^hee of Thy powre ; 

Come once the conquering way ; not to confute 

But km this rebell-word ' irresolute,' 40 

That so, in sjjite of all this peeuish strength 

Of weaknes, she may Amte ' resolv'd' at length. 

Vnfold at length, vnfold fair flo^ATe 

And vse the season of Loue's showTe ! 

\ox VI. 303 

^fcct Ilis wcU-nieaning wounds, wise heart, 45 

And hast to drink tlie wholsome dart. 

That healing shaft, whicli Heaun till now 

Ilath in Loue's quiuer hid for you. 

dart of Loue ! arrow of liglit ! 

happy you, if it hitt right ! 50 

It must not fall in vain, it must 

Xot mark the dry, regardless dust. 

Fair one, it is your fate ; and brings 

x-Etemal worlds vpon its wings. 

Meet it with wide-spread armes, and see 55 

Its seat yom" soul's iust center be. 

Disband dull feares ; giue faith the day ; 

To saue your life, kill your delay. 

It is Loue's seege, and sure to be 

Your triumph, though His victory. 60 

'Tis cowardise that keeps this feild 

And want of courage not to yeild. 

Yeild then, yeild, that Loue may win 

The fort at last, and let life in. 

Yeild quickly, lest perhaps you proue 65 

Death's prey, before the prize of Loue. 

This fort of your faire selfe, if 't be not won, 

He is repulst indeed ; but you are vndone.